Alma Mater
by kungfuwaynewho
Summary: John Sheridan is handsome, funny, a jock - in short, one of the most popular kids in school.  When a new Minbari exchange student named Delenn shows up at his high school, he has to choose between popularity and love.
1. The New Girl

The New Girl

"Johnny, you malignant shit-head, I thought you were gonna do my Econ homework." 7:21 am. That was a new record; usually McCarty didn't start bugging him about homework till at least 8:30. John stuffed his letterman's jacket into his locker, dug through the morass of shit at the bottom to pull out his Earth History textbook.

"Well, I have study hall second hour, and you don't have Econ till fifth, so I don't know why you've got your panties in a twist," John said, closing his locker and leaning back against it. "Besides, you still haven't written that essay for me, you limp-dicked troglodyte."

"It's not due till Friday."

"Yeah, but I gotta have enough time to put it in my own words."

"You mean take out all my lovely metaphors and glowing descriptions and substitute in your own badly-constructed and grammatically-suspect drivel."

"Precisely. There's no point if Mrs. Shrew can tell I didn't write it." Then any thought of homework or Mrs. Shrew went out the window. John and McCarty's heads swung around as Lindsay made her entrance through the main doors down the hall. Damn, but she was beautiful - long, curly red hair, tits out to here, ass out to there, legs a couple miles long. She had her sycophants already hanging off her arms, and as she passed the boys they were granted a single brilliant smile and nothing more.

"Goddamn, Johnny. I mean...goddamn."

"I know it, McCarty. Tell you what, though - I promise to fill you in on all the details after I nail her."

"Please, I'm the one who's gonna nail her."

"A girl as beautiful as that doesn't usually go for cavemen."

"And what exactly do you have to offer her? Maybe you could write her some poetry. That worked real good on Mary."

"Shut the fuck up," John growled as the warning bell rang.

"Here, I've got it. 'Oh, Lindsay, your eyes are as green as emeralds, like the emeralds in my mom's earrings, which are as green as emeralds."

John dug his mobile out of his pocket, flipped it open. "Wait, what was that bit about the emeralds?" They sauntered down the hall toward History. Lots of appraising looks his way - John already knew he was the most handsome guy in the whole school, but it still felt good to be reminded.

"John! Hey, Johnny!" Ugh, it was Amanda. He only made out with her one time, after they'd won the state championship last spring, at the victory rally; it wasn't exactly like he'd been in his right mind at the time. She still wouldn't leave him alone. She was pretty enough, but she was such a gabber. He could feel his eyes start to liquefy every time she started in on him. She ran up to his side, linked her arm through his just as slick as snot.

"Hey, Mandy. I've got a bunch of questions for Mr. Harrison before the bell rings, so..."

"Johnny, my mom wanted to know if you wanted to come with us to St. Louis this weekend. She's got this thing for her company, and she thought we might have some fun going along?" That was precisely what he wanted to do - get stuck in another city with Amanda and her mother. Trapped in a hotel room, listening to endless yammer.

"Yeah, um, I've got this football thing."

"The first game isn't until next Friday!"

"We're doing drills and shit. Big practice. I've gotta go, I don't want to be late. Bye, Mandy!" That was close. One of these days he wouldn't be able to think fast enough and he'd turn around and she'd have him in a church or something. John slid into the classroom just as the bell was ringing. Mr. Harrison gave him the eye, but the eye was like fuel for John; it just made him want to see what else he could get away with. He flopped into his desk, next to McCarty, and two seats behind Lindsay. John wondered, not for the first time, what all that red hair of hers would feel like on his naked body.

"Hey, Lindsay," McCarty drawled. "Your ass is looking mighty fine in those shorts today."

"You're a pig, Nick." But she was smiling over her shoulder at the two of them.

"Yeah, and I'd like to give you some of that oink-oink, too."

"That doesn't even make sense, McCarty," John said, leaning back and stretching out his legs. Did Lindsay just check him out? Yes, he thought she did. "Have you ever even seen a pig having sex?" He turned his eyes to Lindsay, pulled on his biggest, most charming smile. "It's revolting."

Lindsay giggled, and then they all turned to the door as the principal came in with..._what the fuck?_ There was a Minbari behind him. A teeny tiny Minbari girl, who was looking steadfastly at the ground. John had seen plenty of Minbari before - on the news, obviously, but there were probably a dozen who lived in town, including the herbalist on Main Street. But they were all adults, recent immigrants; he didn't think he'd ever seen a Minbari his own age before.

"Class, if I could have your attention, please," Dr. Sumalong was saying. "I'd like to introduce a new student." John let the principal's voice fade into a blur, like he usually did, and just looked at the Minbari. She was a bitty thing, all right, although the bone made her head look bigger, which made the rest of her look smaller. Pretty blue robes, which would make her stand out even more - the rest of the girls all wore the tiniest clothes they could get away with. She was sneaking little glances up at the class, her hands clasped in front of her; John didn't think he'd ever seen anyone so pale before.

Now Sumalong had left, and Mr. Harrison was escorting her to an open desk. He plopped down a textbook right in front of her, and John watched her study it curiously.

"We've already done Chapter One - I'm not going to require you to do any of the homework, and I'm not going to test you over it, but I would recommend you read through it anyway. We're starting Chapter Two today." Mr. Harrison started writing on the chalkboard, and the Minbari girl opened the book like she'd never seen one before.

"Oh, no," George said in his most annoying voice. John really hated that pimply-faced asshole. "I don't think she knows how to operate the textbook."

"They just have singing crystals or something on Minbar, right?" Lindsay added, and the class laughed. Most of the laughter sounded fake, the laughter that people went ahead and gave to the popular kids because it was easier to just go along with the flow. But the Minbari girl didn't seem to realize that it wasn't genuine, and she stared down at her desk, red spots standing out on her pale cheeks.

"I would kill for some singing crystals," John said, good and loud. "Better than a textbook any day. Um, I mean, I love your textbook, Mr. Harrison! Sometimes at night I read it just for fun!" He leaned over to McCarty, whispered as loud as he could: "That's a lie. I still don't know how to read." More laughter, real this time. John slipped McCarty a wink.

"You're illiterate! That explains practice last week. You screwed that play up because you can't tell the difference between the Xs and the Os!"

"I'm illiterate. That's it." John threw his hands up, shrugged. Then he opened up his textbook, held it upside down, and gave it his most serious, studious look. The class was really going now, and Mr. Harrison's voice was barely audible.

"Mr. McCarty, Mr. Sheridan, if we could please get started. I've went ahead and written some discussion prompts on the board."

"Mr. Harrison, I just told you that I can't read. You're being discriminationary." There was a kid up in the front row practically falling out of his desk, and McCarty was slapping the top of his desk, howling _discriminationary!_ in his high-pitched laughing voice. John snuck a look over at the Minbari girl, who was looking at him with confusion and gratitude all mixed up on her face. He grinned at her, and she dipped her head at him in return.

xxx

"Lunch!"

"Lunch!"

"I love to eat lunch!"

"I love it a bunch!"

John and McCarty were using their best fake opera voices. Ever since Mrs. Shrew had forbidden them from singing out their answers in English class (which sucked, because John never got tired of belting out _climax_, even when it wasn't the right answer - especially when it wasn't the right answer), they'd made a point of singing in the cafeteria. Mrs. Shrew had lunch duty, but singing wasn't against the rules or anything, so she had to listen to it.

"Today I'm going to eat some pie!"

"Pie is so tasty I want to cry!"

They got in line, looking out over the tables all lined up. "We could sit with the team," McCarty suggested. John shook his head. "Lindsay's table is all full up." And indeed, there were a million hangers-on all clustered around her. Even now Mrs. Shrew was telling some of them to take their chairs back to another table.

Then John saw the Minbari girl, sitting down all by herself at a table in the corner. She was holding one of the brown bags the school put together. "Do you see that, McCarty?"

"Oh, no. She's got a brown bag."

"We have to stop her."

"But there's no time! We'll never make it across the cafeteria before she takes her first bite, Johnny." McCarty stepped forward, one hand over his heart, the other outstretched. He summoned a deep, stentorian baritone, and like they knew to do so, the students eating settled down into a well-timed hush. "This is a message for the Minbari!"

John joined him. "Don't eat that sandwich or you will be sorry!" She was looking their way, the sandwich out of the bag and halfway to her mouth. She paused, and they both put out their hands - _stop!_

"Enough!" Mrs. Shrew, coming their way.

"Why can't we sing?"

"The cafeteria rules never said we couldn't sing."

"You do not need to be so loud," Mrs. Shrew shrewed at them, her beaky nose all wrinkled up. "I won't have shouting at lunch." They just looked at her, sullen and bored. "Do you hear me?"

"Yes, Mrs. Chu," they gritted out in unison. The line had left them behind, and they easily cut back in - maybe they were a little further ahead than they'd been originally, but these little dweebs weren't going to say anything. John loaded up two trays, paid, and then made his way over to the corner.

"Hey, you didn't eat the sandwich, did you?" he asked, sitting down across from the Minbari girl. No, it was still sitting there. She was looking at him with a weird look on her face - like she was afraid he was going to yell at her or something. John slid one of the trays over to her, and she looked at it like she'd looked at the textbook. "Always get a hot lunch. They make the sandwiches at the beginning of the week and just keep putting them out. And they put stuff like pickle loaf and olive bologna in them. One time, McCarty had to eat one because they ran out of burgers, and he nearly died."

McCarty sat down beside him, nodding gravely. The Minbari girl looked between the two of them, apparently still waiting for something. John dug into his lunch, hoping that Minbari didn't like cookies and he could eat hers.

"Thank you," she said quietly, something odd-sounding in the words, but before he could think about it, Lindsay was leaning over the table, shirt hanging down to expose her lovely, lovely boobs.

"Hey, I scared off a couple of the freshman. You guys want to sit over with me?" She completely ignored the Minbari girl, and McCarty, too, for that matter; eyes only for John. McCarty jumped up, and then turned when John didn't move. "Johnny?"

"Nah, I'm gonna eat with the new girl. Thanks anyway, Linds." She narrowed her eyes at him, then turned and walked back to her table, her ass moving side to side. McCarty and John both watched it go, and then John finally shooed him away. He turned back to the Minbari girl. "So, I kinda wasn't listening when Suma-dong introduced you. What was your name?"

"Delenn."

He stuck his hand out. "I'm John." She reached out and took his hand, a bit tentative, and he was expecting a weak, girly handshake, but her grip was good and strong. She gingerly ate her first bite, chewing slowly. "So what do you think?"

"It is acceptable." He hadn't ever heard anything like her accent before. He needed to keep her talking, so he could listen to it some more.

"So did your parents just move here or something?"

She shook her head. "One of my instructors on Minbar was very interested in humans. He communicated that interest to me. I wished to come here, to learn more about your people. I think I would like to be a diplomat, a bridge between our worlds."

John realized he was staring at her; she had the prettiest voice. He shoved some more food into his mouth. "So are you living with some Minbari then or something?"

"A human couple. One works with the Minbari Immigration Agency. They have been most generous." Delenn took dainty little bites, and John held his breath when she tried her cookie. She seemed to really like it, and after a moment's careful thought, John tossed his over onto her tray. "No, you do not have to," she protested. He just smiled at her, polishing off his chicken strips.

"May I ask you a question?" she asked, and he nodded. "Why does the Earth History class not use a lectern like the other classes? The young man with the spotted face was right; I do not know how to use such an object. I can read the words, of course, but there is no way to make notes or to easily find the information for which one is searching."

"Mr. Harrison is really big on learning more than just the dates and names. In most of Earth's history, students read actual books, and wrote on chalk boards, and didn't have lecterns or mobiles, so that's what we do, too. So we can learn about it or something. It's a pain in the ass." Her smooth brow wrinkled at that. "Your ass is what you sit on." He leaned to the side and slapped his own. She blushed, looking down at her lap. "Anyway, I can show you how to use it. There's an index and glossary in the back. And if you ever need to, you can just get answers from me and McCarty."

"So you do know how to read?"

He laughed. "Yeah, I know how to read."

"Then why did you say that you did not?"

"Because it was funny, I don't know. That way everyone would laugh at me and not..."

"And not at me." Her voice sounded a little sad, and John was struck by the urge to give her a great big hug. "But why would that be humorous?"

"You don't think it's funny?"

"It was a lie. Minbari do not lie."

"I was just making fun of myself. People usually laugh at that. If I'd stood up on my desk and twirled around and said 'I'm a pretty, pretty girl' people would have laughed, too."

Delenn seemed to understand that better. She leaned forward. "They laughed _because_ it was a lie."

"Yeah. I mean, it usually only works if it makes you seem more stupid or more of a loser than you actually are, and not the other way around." She was looking at him intensely, and John wasn't used to being the focus of such keen scrutiny. "What do Minbari find funny, then?"

"We find humor in the inability to achieve spiritual enlightenment." Now she was the one making fun of him; she had to be. What did that even mean?

"I don't know what that means." She smiled at him, a light laugh. She had that weird triangle thing at the top of her nose, and she was bald, and she had a huge bone wrapped around her head, but she was pretty. For a Minbari.

"It would be difficult to explain to a non-Minbari." Mrs. Shrew was yelling at everyone to finish up and dump their trays. John grabbed hers. "Thank you, John, for eating with me."

He smiled down at her. "Maybe tomorrow at lunch you can try to explain spiritual enlightenment to me. You can't use big words, though. I'm kind of dumb." She opened her mouth, looking like she was going to correct him, and then smiled in surprise. John grinned, the kind of grin he couldn't help and not the kind of grin he used as a weapon, and left.

xxx

The end of the day! Seventh hour was the worst - fifty long minutes listening to Ms. Van Houten talk about trig like any of them gave a shit. He'd tried singing out _sine! cosine!_ one day, but she hadn't even blinked, and it wasn't any fun if they didn't get mad. He knew he needed to be good at math if he was going to get in the Academy, but it was all he could do to keep his eyes open. Besides, he had more important things to think about. Practice tonight was going to be tough - Coach was making them run drills after half the team had forgotten to bring their signed physicals in last week. Then he had a pile of homework, half of which had been due today that he'd blown off. But the bell was finally ringing, and he was going to have at least a few minutes of fun before he had to get back to work.

Out of the classroom, finding McCarty, and then they were running up and down the halls whooping joyfully. Scholars Bowl was selling doughnuts before and after school to raise money for a field trip, and John spent the last of his cash buying half a dozen, which he carefully balanced in two stacks as he headed back down to his locker.

"I love glazed doughnuts!" McCarty sang, spinning a sophomore around in a loop. She squealed, then shrieked when she saw the sticky glaze he'd left on her shirt.

"You love your own nuts!" McCarty doubled over with laughter at that, then nodded as he regained his composure.

"It's so true, though. I really do." John carefully ate one of his doughnuts - no hands, just keep enough in your mouth that the rest doesn't fall out when you chew - as they jumped loudly down the steps. McCarty went on, "Speaking of which, I figured out the greatest thing the other night. Start with some Vaseline..."

John elbowed him in the stomach. The halls were pretty well cleared out by now, and the Minbari girl - Delenn - was all by herself down the way, standing in front of her locker, spinning the dial and crying.

"I'm gonna talk to her, okay?"

"We're gonna be late for practice. Coach'll make us run laps. She'll probably make us run double laps, because we were late yesterday."

"You go ahead. Tell her...tell her I'm sick or something."

"She'll check, and then she'll have your ass."

"Tell her I barfed. You don't go to the doctor every time you barf."

"Whatever you say, Johnny. I look forward to watching you run laps for infinity." McCarty headed out the doors then, and John spent a long ten seconds trying to figure out what to do with all the doughnuts in his hands. He finally tossed them in the trash, rinsed his hands off in the water fountain, and rubbed them dry on his jeans. He walked over to Delenn, who was still spinning the combination lock's dial, crying quietly but reaching the point where she was going to start sobbing; little choking noises in her throat, her chin trembling.

"Hey. Hey, Delenn, what's wrong?" She turned away from him, wiping the tears off her face.

"I cannot get this ridiculous device to open. I have missed the transport, and I don't know how to get back to the house." Her shoulders were shaking. John didn't even think, just reached out and pulled her close, wrapping his arms around her. He rubbed her shoulders and her back. She was tense for a moment, then finally relaxed against his chest, crying again.

"It's okay. Hey, it's okay. I'll take you home." Her tears finally tapered off. John kept running his hands up and down her back. She felt nice against him. She felt really nice. He cleared his throat and backed up, not wanting to freak her out with a big human erection her first day of school. "What's your combination?"

She showed him her lectern, _13-37-6_ displayed on the screen. John spun the dial and opened her locker up.

"How did you do that?"

"You have to turn the dial nice and slow, but smoothly - and stop right on the number." He pulled out her history textbook, and helped her load up her bag. "You want to practice?" She nodded, and he closed her locker, spun the dial. He moved aside and she went through the combination. He could see her hesitate during the second spin, and knew before she even tugged up on the handle that it wouldn't open. Delenn smacked her hand against the locker and said something in her own language. Something that did not sound nice at all.

"Was that a Minbari curse word? You're going to have to teach me all the Minbari curse words." She cut her eyes over at him, bottom lip looking a little wobbly again. "Just go nice and slow. You can't pause in the middle." She tried again, and he put a hand on her shoulder. This time she made the long second turn just as smooth as can be, and the lock released. She let out a triumphant little cry when she opened the locker door.

Delenn closed it back up, looked up at him with her big gray eyes. "Thank you again, John." He shook his head at her.

"No thanks necessary. Hey, instead of taking you straight home, do you want to go do something?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, you said you wanted to learn more about humans. We can go do something fun, something you've never done before." He smiled down at her, really turning on the charm, and was delighted when she looked down at her feet, nodding as that pretty blush spread over her cheeks. He slung her bag over his own shoulder, took her hand, and dragged her out the door.

John was halfway to his car before he realized he'd just asked her out on a date.


	2. Playing Games

Playing Games

Delenn had ridden in Human automobiles before, though she preferred transport shuttles and the magnetic trains; this was an entirely new experience, though. The Human adolescent - John - operated his vehicle in an entirely irresponsible way. He exceeded the posted speed limits by a considerable degree, he did not come to complete stops at the signs instructing him to do so, and he took turns in such a way that her body jerked from side to side, even though she was restrained. Most troubling, however, was his tendency to look at her rather than the road.

"So what other classes do you have?" he asked, smiling at her even as he changed lanes. Delenn discreetly took a firm grip on the hand-hold on her door.

"English, Composition, Psychology - which I find most interesting - Study Hall, Calculus, and Physics."

"Calc _and_ Physics? Shit."

"I do not understand the purpose of Study Hall. It would make more sense to use that time for further instruction."

"That's when you do your homework." He took a sharp turn, and Delenn had to close her eyes. She did not wish to die, though she of course knew that eventually her time in this body would end and her soul would wait to be reborn. But she hoped that day was a long way off. She did not wish to die today.

"Should one not do homework at home?" John just laughed at that, looking at her with what seemed was great affection on his face. Humans were more ebullient and outgoing than Minbari, but John was exceedingly cheerful even for a Human. He did not answer her question, which she continued to ponder; he seemed to take a very lackadaisical approach to his education. She was fairly sure at lunch he had offered to give her answers, which would be cheating. The very idea was scandalous.

The vehicle came to a stop, and John turned the engine off. By the time she disengaged her restraint, he had already come to the other side of the vehicle and opened her door for her. He took her hand and helped her climb down; his hand was very warm around hers, and he did not let go even after he had closed her door and locked the car. He linked his fingers through hers and led her toward the collection of buildings in front of them. Shops, they looked like.

"Where are we going?"

"You'll see."

People were looking her way, as they always did when she went out in public on Earth. A lot of silly faces, as though they had never seen a Minbari before. Some kind smiles. A few angry looks, dark hairy eyebrows drawn together in a threatening way. Usually the angry looks disturbed her no matter how much she tried to ignore them - how could she make someone so upset simply by existing? - but today she found she could ignore them quite easily. Walking beside this tall, handsome Human male, his hand holding hers, his thumb rubbing absently along the top of her hand - how could she feel any anxiety at all?

They entered one of the buildings. It was very dark inside, with strangely colored lights and very loud music. There were large boxy mechanisms here and there, flashing and beeping; VR pods along the far wall; vid screens positioned all over. John was sliding his credit chit through a machine, and gathering up brightly colored metallic discs. He shoved them into the pockets of his rather tight blue trousers, and Delenn made herself look somewhere else. Heat as blood rushed to her face - how many times had she felt that sensation already today?

"What is this place, John?"

"It's an arcade. You play games here." He turned to face her. "What do you want to..." He trailed off. He wasn't looking at her eyes, but at the top of her head.

"What is it?" He drew one of his fingers down the center of her head, starting at her bone crest. She couldn't help but shiver at his light touch.

"The blue on the top of your head. It is, like, glowing. It looks really fantastic." He grinned down at her, that smile that made something in her stomach flutter madly. His teeth looked incredibly white under the strange lights. "Have you ever flown in a Starfury before?" She shook her head, feeling so utterly out of place that she was having a hard time remembering how to speak English. He grabbed her hand again, dragged her over to one of the corners. It was darker here, the games arranged in such a way to make it feel quite private.

A large box, like the center of one of the Human fighting ships. John opened a door and pulled her inside along with him. A simulation game; the interior of the box looked like the pictures she had seen of Starfury control panels. Lights, buttons, switches, levers. It was a very tight space, not designed for two people. He stood at the back, positioned her in front of him. She had no choice but to be pressed against him, his chest against her back. He put his arms on either side of her, feeding some of those metallic discs into a slot. Delenn felt nervous and excited and happy and terrified all at once.

John was explaining the controls to her - weapons and power and pitch and yaw - but she was having a hard time concentrating, focusing instead on his warm breath on the top of her head as he spoke, his hand resting on her hip. "Are you ready?" he asked, and she nodded, unwilling to ask him to repeat everything he had just said. He would likely take offense if he knew she had not paid very close attention.

Then the simulation began, and even though she knew it was not real, she still found her heart beating faster as she tried to guide the ship through a defensive perimeter while shooting at enemies. Once John grabbed her hand and put it on the proper control, but other than that he let her be. The first game ended rather quickly when she forgot to check behind her and an enemy ship shot out her engines; John loaded a few more discs and she played again, doing better this time.

"You're a natural," he said, and it was just a silly game, but his praise still warmed her inside.

"Do you enjoy this game?"

"This is my favorite game. I'm gonna be a pilot in EarthForce."

"I would like to watch you fly." Delenn didn't need to see his face to know that he was smiling. She thought she would have to find a way to squeeze herself beside him, but he seemed perfectly happy to play with her still pressed against his front. She couldn't see that the awkwardness affected him at all; it was fascinating to watch him fly. He had an almost intuitive control over the machine, making his moves at practically the same time the obstacle presented itself. Delenn was so enthralled she nearly forgot about their proximity to one another until he reached across her body to slap at a control and his arm brushed against her breast. She tensed her muscles to keep from shivering against him, and swallowed the sound she felt herself almost make involuntarily.

The simulation grew more and more difficult, and he finally lost, losing control of his Starfury and slamming into the side of another ship. "Fuck!"

Delenn couldn't help it. She giggled.

"You think it's funny that I lost?" His words were combative, but his tone was amused, playful. She shook her head, and then he was squeezing his arms around her, growling into her ear. "You do, don't you? You think it's hilarious that I just blew my ship up. You were just waiting to laugh at my failure."

"No, John!" Then a series of numbers and letters appeared on the main view screen, and he tapped at the top set. The number _one_, then _JJS_, then a very long number. Four hundred million and more.

"Look at that."

"What is JJS?"

"John J. Sheridan. That's me. I've got the top score." His initials also stood beside the numbers three, seven and eight.

"This is very impressive."

"Damned straight." He turned her in the circle of his arms, and it was almost too much, looking at his face when they were this close. "So what were you laughing at?"

"I ought not have laughed. I apologize."

"I'm not mad, Delenn. I just want to know." She shook her head again, and he squeezed her even closer. "Tell me." Shaking her head, laughing. He put his forehead against hers, shaking her gently back and forth. "Tell me tell me tell me."

"All right!" He pulled back, triumphant. "I cannot help but find that word humorous."

"What word? 'Fuck?'" She giggled again. "That's a very naughty word," he explained.

"To Humans, yes."

"Does it mean something else to a Minbari?"

"The _fokk_ is a type of flower that grows in the lowlands, near Minbar's equator. A very pretty, highly fragrant flower." He was laughing, all bright eyes and dimples and white teeth. Delenn felt absolutely overcome with happiness. She was surprised she could remember to breathe. "Humans use that word when they are angry, and they shout it very forcefully, their hairy eyebrows squeezed together, their faces twisted. _Fokk!_ You might as well shout _roses!_" John was laughing so hard his eyes were squeezed shut, and he collapsed against her, put his head on her shoulder. His arms came up tight around her back. Delenn let herself slide her own arms up around his shoulders, one hand to the back of his head. She tentatively ran the tips of her fingers through his blond hair, surprised at the softness of the texture.

He was still gasping out laughter against her neck. Delenn was surprised; she had not expected him to also find the humor in the play on words. Unless he thought that by pointing this out, she was...how had he put it? Making fun of herself?

Now John pulled himself back upright, wiping wetness away from his face. "Oh my God. Roses." He put his hands on either side of her head, right on the bone, and then pressed his lips hard against her forehead. Delenn was positive she felt her heart stop. He leaned back, his hands sliding down to her face. "Mark my words. By the end of this week, I'll have every kid in that school shouting _roses!_ when they get pissed. It's going to be completely amazing."

Delenn's face hurt, and she realized she had never smiled this much in her entire life. John grabbed her hand, flung open the door to the Starfury, and pulled her back out into the arcade.

xxx

They played every game in the arcade. Delenn was particularly good at the memory game, which required you to tap out a sequence of lights and colors in order. They climbed into a VR pod together and flew over the Amazon rainforest in a hang glider. John did extremely well on the sports simulations, and she watched appreciatively as he threw and caught and hit differently shaped balls. His whole demeanor changed then; he grew more serious, the lines of his face settling into an almost-there image that made Delenn wonder what he would look like in another ten years. Would he look more like this focused and disciplined man than the otherwise playful and rambunctious boy he was now?

At many of the games, they had collected slips of paper with numbers printed on them. Now John took her to a counter in the back and they turned the papers over. A machine counted them.

"Six hundred forty-three," the adolescent Human girl behind the counter said, her voice so bored that Delenn had a hard time understanding her. It didn't help that she would not face them directly, would not even lift her head from the lectern in her lap.

"So we've got six hundred tickets. You can pick out anything six hundred or less, or a combination that adds up to that."

"Pick out what?"

"See all the prizes?" She had thought this to be another game. There were shelves and displays filled with odd objects. Most of them were so strange, Delenn could not even begin to guess what their purpose might be.

"You won most of the games. You should have the prize," she said, feeling unreasonably shy again.

"No. You pick." She scanned the prizes, and she hated moments like this, when she was confronted with something so utterly Earther in origin that she had no frame of reference. That large object shaped like a hand but made out of some kind of soft material - for what reason might one need such a thing?

"I don't know, John. You choose. You choose something you think I would like." He made a humming noise at that, pacing up and down in front of the counter. She was preparing to tell him that it was really not important when he pointed to one of the highest shelves.

"There. I'll take the blue bear." The Human girl sighed loudly and pulled over a very short platform upon which to stand, and retrieved the object. It was an animal? Surely that could not be right. John grabbed it out of the girl's hands and turned to Delenn, grinning wildly again. He made a strange sound. "Rawr."

"What is it?" Now that it was closer, she could see it was not alive, but was instead a soft fabric filled with some kind of stuffing. Its face bore a sweet smile, and its eyes were hard and shiny.

"It's a teddy bear." John held it close, bussed its nose against hers. She giggled, rubbing at her nose. He handed the stuffed creature to her. "It's for you." It was rare for Minbari to give gifts - to receive one was a great honor. She clutched the bear to her chest, biting her lip even though she knew it was doing no good. She could feel tears coming to her eyes.

"Thank you," she whispered. John's smile died away, and he looked at her with the same focus he'd worn on his face when he had played the sports simulations. He brought a hand to her face, thumb wiping away the single tear that had escaped. He moved closer to her, his head tilting to one side.

Then the doors to the arcade flew open with a great clamor, and three young men loudly entered. Two she did not recognize, but the one in front was the spotted-faced adolescent from Earth History. The one who had "made fun" of her and the textbook.

"Well, if it isn't John Sheridan," he said now in a tone of voice that Delenn could only think of as slimy. "And here I am, showing up to knock off that top score of yours."

"You keep telling yourself that, George," John replied, his tone light, but he moved to stand in front of her, and she could see his hands clenched into fists.

"Is that the little Minbari girl? How adorable." The disdain in his voice made her stomach turn, and she wanted to place a hand on John's back; she wanted that comfort. Instead she just clasped her hands tightly together and stared at the floor. "You didn't waste any time, Sheridan."

"I don't know what the fuck you're talking about." Nothing about that word was funny now. A very angry energy was in the air, and Delenn wanted to take John's hand and pull him out of this place, back out into the sunshine and fresh air.

"Hey, bony! Did he tell you why he brought you here?"

John stepped forward, his voice a rough growl. "You ever call her that again, I swear to God..."

"So chivalrous, such a gentleman. That's your big weapon, right? That and your big smile. Makes all the girls just go wild. He's just trying to get you into bed, bony. John Sheridan, the school slut. You're just another notch on his bedpost. It's funny, though. I thought he'd wait at least a day or two before making his move." Then the spotted boy wasn't speaking any more, because John strode forward and punched him in the face.

The other two boys jumped in, and it was hard to tell exactly what was going on in the dim light. Delenn looked over the counter for something she could use; the bored Human girl was speaking into the com unit on the wall. There, a heavy sphere of glass, objects trapped inside; Judith had one on her desk to hold down her papers. Delenn picked it up, and went to the cluster of fighting adolescents. John had the spotted boy down on the floor, and hit him again in the face as she approached. One of the companions was behind John, his arm around his throat; the other came up and kicked John hard in the back.

Delenn grabbed that one's shoulder, and brought the glass sphere down on the back of his head. She angled it at the last moment so that it would glance off his skull; otherwise, she knew she would have crushed it. The boy fell to the floor, limp, unconscious. The second boy released John's throat, scrambling back with fear in his eyes. She grabbed the back of John's shirt and dragged him back with all her strength, which was considerable. He nearly flew to his feet.

"Enough!" she shouted, and there was a beat of stunned silence from everyone; the boys who had just been fighting, the dozen spectators who had clustered around. Delenn could see everyone waiting for her to say something else, but she was suddenly very tired. She walked back to the counter and set the glass sphere back down upon it. The Human girl was staring at her with hostility, not even bothering to try to conceal it.

"I just called security," she said, lip actually curling up. "I told them we should just ban you boneheads from the whole mall."

Movement in her peripheral vision. John was kneeling, picking up the blue bear from the floor. He held it out to her. She pretended she didn't see the gesture and walked to the arcade's entrance. After a moment, she heard John follow.

xxx

Driving. Now John's hands were firmly on the wheel, his eyes firmly on the road. There was blood drying on the corner of his mouth, blood on his knuckles. Delenn wouldn't let herself look at it. Neither would she allow herself to even glance at the blue bear sitting up next to the front glass. She knew it was there, though, its hard and shiny eyes looking her way. She had thought it to be a true gift, something given out of affection and kindness. Instead it was just part of the game, part of John's game.

That was why he had grown so very angry, why he had been willing to physically spar with the spotted boy. The boy had revealed the truth. There was no other reason why he had sat with her at lunch, had hugged her in the hallway, had brought her to that place. She had been so naive. She had seen the way the orange-haired girl had looked at him at lunch, the looks he'd garnered from other females as they'd walked to the arcade; he could have any girl he wanted. He would not want her.

She had her lectern out, and entered in the words the spotted boy had said. She didn't struggle to remember them; it was quite easy.

_To get someone into bed - a slang term for seduction. Seduction - to entice another to engage in sexual activity._

_Slut - someone who is sexually promiscuous._

_Notches on the bedpost - slang for having a great number of sexual partners._

Delenn slipped her lectern back into her robes with numb fingers. "It's not true," John said, his voice slightly hoarse. "What he said. It's not true." She nodded absently. At least he did not find her so unattractive that he would be unwilling to consider her as a sexual partner. That was not much comfort, but she would take what little comfort she could.

John turned onto her street, and there was the house up ahead. Judith was sitting on the front porch, mobile to her ear, and even from this distance Delenn could see that she had been crying. Had something happened to Livia? She didn't wait until John had finished parking his vehicle; she tugged off her restraint and flung open her door.

"Judith?"

Judith saw her, relief on her face. "Liv, she's here," she said, then closed her mobile and ran down the path toward her. "Delenn, thank God." Judith crushed her close in a hug. "I was so worried about you."

For a second, Delenn wondered why Judith would have been worried about her. Then she noticed the quality of light - it was quite late, nearly sunset. It must have been...she had to think; converting time still took her a moment of concentration. At least four hours since she would have arrived at the house after school ended. Three hours since Judith returned from work. Now she was holding Delenn out at arm's length, searching her face.

"I thought maybe you'd stayed late, but when you didn't come home, I called the school, and no one could find you. And there were no messages. Delenn, you can't do that." She could not stand to see the worry and anger on Judith's face, and found herself crying (_how many times will you cry today, Delenn?_), her stomach twisting into knots. "You have to call. I had no idea where you were."

"I'm sorry."

"It was my fault." John's voice, behind her. "I took her to the arcade after school. I should have remembered to call, and I didn't. It was my fault." She didn't want to, but she turned around. Delenn looked fully at his face for the first time since leaving the arcade. Not only was there blood on the corner of his mouth, his bottom lip was swollen and split, and the skin around his left eye was growing dark.

"And who are you?" Judith asked, not sounding very friendly.

"This is John. He's in my History class." Judith looked at him very closely, then put an arm around Delenn's shoulders and drew her toward the house.

"Come inside, John."

"What?"

"Come inside the house." Judith didn't bother turning around, or waiting to see if he followed her directions. She swept Delenn inside, and as she crossed the threshold Delenn could not decide whether she wanted him to follow or not.

xxx

Delenn scooped ice into a dishtowel, then handed it to Judith, who arranged it over John's dark eye. He winced.

"When did you get in a fight, John?" Judith sounded like a warrior, someone used to delivering orders and expecting those commands to be followed. Delenn wondered if John would look quite so subdued and nervous if he knew that Judith was a primary school teacher.

"At the arcade, ma'am."

"Over what?"

John hesitated. She did not want him to tell Judith the truth; she did not want to be embarrassed in front of her, did not want to listen to another lecture on interacting with Humans her own age. "Some adolescent males were in the arcade. They said cruel things to me. They called me names. John felt compelled to defend my honor." She hadn't meant for that last sentence to sound so sarcastic, but it did, and she saw John recognize it. His uncovered eye dropped to the floor, and Delenn was stung by the look of sadness on his face.

"I see." Delenn had only been living with Judith for five days, and had already heard _I see_ at least one hundred times. "Are you staying for dinner, John?" He looked at Delenn, eye wary. She didn't know what was on her own face. Evidently it was not welcoming, because John shook his head lightly. She wondered that she already knew him so well, that she could tell his light tone was not really all that light.

"I figure Delenn's seen enough of me. Probably had enough fun for one day." He stood, and the kick had obviously hurt his back. No matter that his motives might not have been pure in spending time with her today; no matter that in a few days he would likely turn to a new target. She had experienced a great deal of pleasure in his company today, and he _had_ attempted to defend her honor at risk to his own physical safety.

"I would like you to stay for dinner. That is, if you would like to stay." He looked up at her, surprised at first, and then a slow smile spread over his face. Before it grew wide enough to expose the divots in his cheeks on either side of his mouth, though, he winced and put his fingers to his bottom lip.

"I don't want you two under foot while I'm trying to cook. Delenn, why don't you show John your room." Judith switched to Adronato. "_Unless there is any reason this adolescent male should not have admittance to your bedroom?"_

Delenn couldn't help the first thought that popped into her mind. _There is a reason, Judith. He is apparently a slut. He will attempt to notch me to his bedpost._ Instead she just smiled and shook her head.

"John, call your parents first."

xxx

They went down the stairs to the bottom level of the house, the one mostly underground, John behind her and speaking into his mobile. "Yes, Mom. I know when my curfew is, okay? Fine." He snapped the device shut with a sigh. Delenn wished she could return to a few minutes earlier. She wished she would have kept her mouth shut, and let John return home. The next hour at least would be very awkward. She no longer knew how to interact with him, how to talk to him. How could she trust anything he said or did in the future? She could still be nice to him, but her hopes that he would become her first friend her own age here on Earth had been shattered.

They entered her room. Delenn did not expect John to look around with such a dumbfounded expression on his face. It was though he had never seen a bedroom before. She watched him wander over to one side, where her candles and mat were set up for meditation. He looked down at everything for a moment, then lowered himself with a wince to the floor.

"I've been trying to learn how to meditate," he said. Was this part of the game? Delenn hated that she didn't know. She sat down beside him.

"Why?"

"I've been getting into Buddhism lately. It really helps me a lot, you know, with school and stuff. To concentrate, to not freak out and get stressed when I have a lot of homework or practice isn't going well. But I'm still not very good at the meditation thing." Delenn would never have guessed this particular Human to be interested in meditation, but his words had the ring of truth. She lit a few candles, and against her better judgment dimmed the main lights. They sat in silence for several long minutes, and Delenn found herself slipping into the first stages of a light meditative state as she watched the flickering candle lights. So it was that when John slid his hand over to grasp hers she didn't jerk her hand away but instead curled her fingers around his, squeezing gently.

"I'm sorry," he said. "George is a complete pus-head and he's hated me since junior high, but I still shouldn't have let him get me that mad. But I'm not a slut. It probably seems that I am because I haven't had a steady girlfriend in over a year, and I hang out with a lot of different girls, but...God, this is embarrassing. I've only slept with one girl, my last girlfriend, and it was kind of fucked up. So yeah, I fool around, but I don't just try to get a bunch of girls into bed." A pause, and Delenn wanted to believe him, but George's version made more sense to her. She'd been too surprised and delighted to wonder why this Human male would want to hold her hand and hug her close and spend so much time with her. That she was simply a conquest was easier to understand than any possible alternative.

"But I can't lie to you," he went on. "I can't say that I wasn't thinking about kissing you, that I hadn't thought about...anything else. But if I ask you out on another date, or ask if I can kiss you goodnight, you'll probably just think it's me trying to get into your pants. And I don't want you to think that. But can we still be friends? I'd really like to be your friend."

She nodded, squeezing his hand again. And for a moment it didn't matter to her why he wanted to kiss her - he wanted to kiss her, and she wanted him to kiss her, too. "I want to be friends."

He sighed at that. They sat in front of the candles for another half an hour, and Delenn expected to feel too distracted to meditate properly, too aware of his presence, his hand around hers. But instead everything felt perfectly natural, as though they had sat like this together a hundred times before. Distantly she heard Judith calling them upstairs to eat. John stirred first, and helped her to her feet. Delenn ignored the voice in her head that usually urged caution and restraint, and leaned up to place a light kiss on his jaw.

"Thank you. Today was wonderful."

"I screwed it up."

"No." There was no guile in his eyes as he looked down at her, nothing but warmth and affection and a sheen of relief. Delenn knew in that moment that she could trust him. She took his hand, and led him to the stairs.


	3. Choices

Choices

"You have to use your right hand," Delenn whispered, and it took John a second to figure out what the hell she was talking about. She lifted her own tiny little fork with her right hand, then gestured to his.

"Why?" he whispered back. He'd come upstairs expecting a good solid meal, sitting around a regular table like regular people; instead they were all on the floor, a single platter of some weird cube thing in front of them, and now he had to try to use a tiny little fork with his right hand?

"It's just tradition, John," Judith said, her own wobbly cube dangling from her own tiny little fork. Her eyes narrowed his way. Maybe it was because he'd been responsible for Delenn being late, maybe it was because he'd shown up with a black eye and split lip, maybe it was because Delenn had acted like she wanted to run home to Minbar when they'd been standing in the kitchen - whatever the reason, Judith didn't like him. That was something he'd have to fix in a hurry. He switched the tiny little fork over to his right hand, beamed out at the entire table, speared a beige cube and shoved it in his mouth.

"No!" all three women around the table cried at once. John froze, and independently his teeth came together. Whatever the cube was, it squeaked. He turned to look at Delenn, and she actually had a hand up over her mouth. Christ, what had he done?

"You're supposed to set aside a portion for Valen first," Livia explained. Livia, Delenn's other host mom; John liked her a lot more than Judith, that was for sure. For one thing, she didn't talk to him like he was a third grader. The cube was melting on his tongue, and it tasted like...like...well, it sure tasted like something. She must have seen his intentions telegraphed on his face, because Judith gritted out: "Swallow what you have in your mouth." He obediently did so. "Set aside a piece for Valen," she ordered, gesturing. Ah, that was what the empty plate was for. He snagged another cube, dropped it once on the tablecloth, then put it on Valen's plate.

He glanced Delenn's way, and she was smiling up at him. That was why he was doing all this - to see more smiles like that. She scraped off a piece of one of the cubes, gave it to invisible Valen herself, then took a bite of one of the cubes. A perfectly delicate little bite, and he decided he would just watch her eat for awhile.

"John?" He whipped his head around. Livia and Judith were both smiling at him - Livia with affection, Judith as though she had a mean joke on the tip of her tongue. Had he just been staring at Delenn's mouth? Probably. He ate another cube, squishing it violently between his molars.

"This flarg is pretty good," he said, very proud of himself, remembering to swallow before he spoke and all. Delenn let out what he now knew was a tiny little laugh, just a puff of air through her nose; she did that when she was trying to keep her laugh bottled up. How did he already know that about her?

"It's flarn." Livia, grinning at him.

"Right, flarn. So do you guys usually sit on the floor when you eat?"

"Only for special meals," Delenn said. "This is your first time eating with us as a guest." Did that mean she would want him to eat here again sometime? Sounded promising. He was still coming to terms with the knowledge that maybe he hadn't fucked everything up. "Traditionally, on Minbar, this meal would have been prepared over several days, with prayer and meditation, specific rituals in the preparation of the food being observed. But as we have already done in so many things, we have compromised." She smiled at her host moms then, and John wanted to just tackle her to the floor and cover her in kisses. Goddamn, but he felt like a girl.

They ate in silence for a couple minutes, and John was pretty sure that flarn was nothing more than squeaky beige air. He hadn't eaten since lunch, it was nearly nine, and he was absolutely starving.

"So after we eat the fancy guest flarn, what do we eat next?" He very much did not like Judith's smile his way at that.

xxx

John wasn't sure where he was driving. Part of him really, really wanted the big greasy chili cheese dogs at Hoover's on Main, but he didn't think Delenn would want to eat there. Besides, he had plenty of money. Judith had given him ten credits, and then as they were leaving, Livia had given him a good solid handshake, and pressed fifty more credits into his palm with a wink. Maybe that meant she wanted him to take Delenn someplace fancy.

He glanced her way. She was sitting all prim and proper, her hands clasped in her lap, but her head was tilted to the side, watching the stars as they drove. Something about the angle of her jaw made him feel kind of funny, and what he really wanted to do was turn down one of these one-lane back roads he kept passing, find a dark, secluded place to pull over, and take her into the backseat.

Nope, now was not the time to think about that. He'd think about that later tonight. And probably in the shower tomorrow morning, too.

"What kind of food do you like?" he asked her, and that reminded him that he was going to starve to death pretty soon.

"I've not eaten much Human food. What I have eaten has been rather bland. Minbari foods are much more...I am not sure of the English word."

"Spicy?"

"That sounds right."

That decided it. He made a U-turn at the next light and stepped on the gas a little; he wasn't too worried about missing his curfew - the worst his mom would do was yell at him a little - but he was worried about getting Delenn home too late and having to face Judith. Before too long he squealed into the parking lot of the Indian restaurant, and was pleased when Delenn waited patiently for him to open her door. His hip still burned from where he'd scraped the shit out of it against the front bumper when he'd run around the car to get to her door before she did at the arcade. He took her by the hand, and watched her face as they entered and she took in the lights, the decorations, the hostess wearing a beautiful - and pretty revealing - sari.

The hostess smiled at John's quickly raised eyebrows and sat them in a little booth in a dark corner. Delenn studied the menu like she thought there was going to be a test.

"Anything catch your eye?"

"I do not know most of these words."

"You want me to order for you?" She nodded, and he picked out a couple different things when the waiter came over. For the first time ever in a restaurant, he wasn't counting down the seconds till his food came out - it was nice to just sit and talk to Delenn without any distractions.

"What was your life like on Minbar?"

"Quite different from my life here so far, that is certain. Our instructional centers, our schools, are much more disciplined. Students are expected to behave with respect toward their instructors and each other."

"Yeah, that's not like our school at all," he laughed. "What about your parents? What do they do?"

"My father is an archivist. He primarily works in the temple we attend, but his services are often requested by other temples in the city. He is particularly skilled at restoring scrolls. Not long after I was born, my mother joined the Sisters of Valeria. I have seen her only two times since."

"That sucks."

"No. It is a great honor." But her face didn't look like she thought it was a great honor. Her face looked like she was someone who missed her mom a whole lot. It was too bad there wasn't a job called Make People Sad, or he'd be hired right out of school.

"You know, my dad's actually a diplomat. You should talk to him sometime. He has a ton of great stories." Her face lit up at that. "This one time, he was meeting with some lackey in the court of the Centauri Emperor, trying to iron out some trade agreement, and the guy was being a total douche about it. Just debating every single tiny point, and constantly leaving the room and making Dad just sit and wait, that kind of thing. The last time he left, Dad gathered up all his papers and walked back to the spaceport. The lackey came running after him, begging him to stay. My dad told him that there was one thing he could do to make up for his offense, and described an ancient Human apology ritual that he could perform. So there he was, this minor Centauri official, right in the middle of the spaceport, tons of aliens all around, doing the Hokey Pokey."

Delenn was laughing, no trying to hold it in this time. "Am I to believe there is no such thing as the ancient Human apology ritual called the Hokey Pokey?"

"Well, the Hokey Pokey definitely exists. Look it up." She pulled out her lectern and even though she had the volume turned way down, John could hear the faint sound of the song. She didn't watch for long before she set her lectern down and buried her face in her hands, her shoulders shaking. John was laughing, too, his favorite kind of laughing - just watching someone else laugh and being unable to keep from joining in.

Then their food came. Delenn seemed to enjoy it - her bites weren't quite as tiny and perfect, at any rate. Halfway through the meal she apparently remembered the Hokey Pokey again, and actually got out of the booth so she could face away from him and laugh. He ended up laughing so hard watching her that he got some tikka masala up his nose.

Definitely the best date ever.

He drove her home taking the longest route he could think of, actually going the speed limit for a change. But they still ended up in front of her house a lot sooner than he wanted. He shut off the engine and turned in his seat to look at her, reaching out to run a finger along the edge of her bone crest. "Did you have a good night?" he asked, and he wanted to slide over and kiss her so bad he could hardly see straight. She nodded, her eyes big and her face serious.

_John Sheridan, you said you weren't going to try and get into her pants. Not that she's wearing pants. It certainly would be a lot easier without her wearing any pants...John Sheridan! You said you wanted to be her friend. So be a gentleman and walk her to the door, _his brain snapped at him.

_Good advice, brain,_ he replied, and unbuckled his seat belt and climbed out. Did he hear her sigh as he was slamming his door shut? Probably not. He helped her out, and they walked up the path to the front porch. She didn't let go of his hand and made no move to open the door; she just stood there, looking at him.

"So how was your first day of school?" he asked, expecting a smile. Instead she kept looking up at him with those big solemn eyes. Was she going to break up with him? Could you even break up with someone after one date? But she just brought her fingertips up to his cheek, gently drawing them over until one rested against his lips.

"You said you would not ask to kiss me goodnight, so that I did not have the wrong impression of your intentions toward me," she said, voice low. "So instead, I will ask if I may kiss you goodnight." It took a couple seconds for him to make sense of what she'd just said, and then he could only nod like a big, dumb cow. She tilted her face up to his, up on her tiptoes, and he leaned down, bringing one hand up to the back of her head. He stopped just shy of her lips, and let her finish closing the distance.

John was pretty sure it was her first kiss - she just pressed her lips against his and held them there. He waited a second, then slipped his other arm around her waist, drawing her close. He took control of the kiss, though he had no desire to make it anything other than this, nice and slow and sweet. No need to go crazy - he ended it, then just kept holding her close, his forehead against hers. He realized now that she had one hand up in his hair, the other clutching the front of his shirt.

"I imagined many things happening today," she whispered against his lips, her voice a little shaky, "but I never imagined anything like this." He smiled, then gently kissed her one more time. Pulled his head up to just look at her.

"I'll see you tomorrow," he said. She nodded, and he supposed he was going to have to be the one to let go. He reluctantly stepped back, then even more reluctantly walked back to his car. As he came around to the driver's side he looked back up at the house, and she was still standing there, watching him. He thought for a half-second about running back up through the yard, grabbing her, and just really laying one on her like they were in a vid or something. Instead he smiled at her, climbed in his car, and drove home.

xxx

John pulled around to the gravel at the side of the house and parked, turned off the engine. Just sat behind the wheel, thinking. He was trying to figure out just when during the day he'd gone from thinking Delenn was pretty great and fun to hang out with to wanting her to be his girlfriend. He'd decided after Jeanne that he wasn't going to have another girlfriend while he was in high school - it was too much trouble, too complicated, he'd have to break up with her after he graduated and entered the Academy, and it was just easier to make out with whatever girl was available when he felt like making out. Here he was, though, spending the whole drive home thinking about other things he could do with Delenn, different dates he could take her on.

He leaned his head back, replayed their kiss in his head. She had smelled so good, and felt so nice against him. He'd been a very good boy and kept his tongue in his own mouth the whole time, and the kiss couldn't have been more than a minute long, yet it was the hottest kiss he could remember. It would still be another few minutes before he'd be safe to go inside; his luck, he'd run into someone before he could sneak up to his bedroom. He'd been pretty good so far at hiding the evidence that he was a teenage boy from his mom; he didn't want to blow it tonight.

That meant he'd have to stop thinking about kissing her, though; it was just making things worse. John wondered if he had decided he wanted Delenn to be his girlfriend at the same time he'd stopped noticing that she was Minbari. When had that happened? When they'd been in the Starfury, he thought. She'd been pressed up against him, so lovely and soft. And then he'd hugged her, laughing, and her robes weren't as thick as he'd thought; he'd been able to feel her breasts pressing against his chest.

_Goddamn it!_ He shook himself. Now he really had a problem on his hands, and he did not feel like wanking in his car. He got out, careful not to slam his door, and ran a couple laps around the yard. It was quarter past eleven when he finally slipped in the side door, and he tiptoed through the kitchen to the back stairs. Just before he reached them, he heard his parents in his dad's study down the hall. Their voices were low, but his dad was using his Diplomat Voice, and his mom was pissed. Really pissed.

"When he called me, I reminded him about his curfew. I am tired of having the same conversation with him over and over again."

"You know," his dad said, and John crept down the hall a little. "I seem to recall a few times you missed your curfew. I believe you were out with me."

"That's not the point, David. I'm also not sure why you always automatically believe him. We've caught him in more than a few lies."

"I called over - he took the girl out for something to eat. And, you know, I've met with Livia Burke a couple times. I have no doubt she'll keep an eye on him." John hadn't even thought of that; it made sense that Dad would have had some contact with the Minbari Immigration Agency.

Then his mom's voice got even lower. "And that doesn't bother you? John taking a Minbari girl out on a date?"

"Miranda."

"I have no problem with a few Minbari coming to live here, and I'm glad that we've developed better relations with Minbar. For your sake, if nothing else. That doesn't mean I want John dating one of them."

"And here I was, proud of him for being so welcoming and friendly. Probably made her first day a lot less scary."

John stole back to the side door, then opened and closed it with a bit more force than necessary. He clomped loudly to the back stairs, and his parents came out into the hallway to meet him.

"Do you know what time it is?" his mom demanded. Then she got a good look at him. "John, what happened to your face? Did you get in a fight?" There wasn't a whole lot of concern in her voice, and it was the last straw.

"Yeah, I did. We were out and some guy called Delenn "bony" and I punched him in the face. And yeah, I know, don't start a fight. I'm not going to stand around when some jackass calls my girlfriend a racist name." His mom gasped, but he just kept going, good and sarcastic. "Then I took her to get some Indian food. Her host moms just made flarn for dinner. It doesn't really fill you up." His dad's face got kind of funny at that, like he was surprised or something. He'd probably had to eat flarn before, too.

His mom opened and closed her mouth a few times. "Did we or did we not discuss your curfew on the phone?" she asked, deciding to stick with a familiar arena of battle.

"Yeah, Mom. I'm a fuck-up. What else is new?" He turned and started stomping up the stairs.

"John Sheridan, watch your language." He ignored her and kept stomping. Up at the top, around the corner, and there was Lizzie sitting on the floor. She must have been listening.

"Did I miss anything good?" He stomped extra loud down the hall to his bedroom, and Lizzie followed silently behind. He opened the door for her, then slammed it shut. John flung himself down on his bed, and Lizzie perched on the edge of it next to him. "How long has she been going?"

"Since ten-thirty. First she was just talking to herself. It's a school night, you know when your curfew is, on and on. Dad finally got into it about fifteen minutes ago." He sighed, and he wished he knew what his mom's problem was. She acted like everything he did wrong was the end of the world or something. So he was a few minutes late? Big deal. Lizzie leaned close. "Is it true? Are you dating a Minbari?" He nodded. "Is she pretty?" He grinned at her, and was going to elaborate when their mom hollered from across the hall.

"Elizabeth! Get into bed right this minute!" Lizzie sighed and went to the door. She turned back to him. "You promised me you'd help me with my essay."

"When's it due?"

"Friday."

"Tomorrow, I promise." She smiled and slipped out the door. John stayed where he was for a few minutes, then got up and locked the door. He dug the lotion out of his bottom drawer and stripped out of his clothes, got himself situated. Then, for the first time in a long time, he didn't think about the adult vids he watched over at McCarty's, or even just random depersonalized body parts. He thought about Delenn, the way she'd felt in his arms, her pretty smile, and that perfect kiss.

xxx

God, it was early. It had been almost two before he'd gotten around to trying to fall asleep, and then his thoughts had just spun round and round in an endless loop. He'd think about Delenn for awhile, and then he'd end up thinking about what his mom had said. _That doesn't mean I want John dating one of them. _If anyone had asked him before last night, he would have said beyond a shadow of a doubt that his mom was as accepting and unprejudiced a person as could be. Anytime she accompanied his dad to some alien planet, she always came back with enthusiastic stories and souvenirs. She'd had a Markab pen pal for almost twenty-five years, for crying out loud.

His alarm had gone off after he'd been asleep no more than an hour, and it had been hell trying to get dressed and out the door; not even a brisk cold shower did much good. Now he was pushing his way down the hall, trying to get to his locker. All he could see were girls, all shrieking with glee about something, and he was pretty sure their cries were going to end up making his head explode.

"Sheridan!" _Oh, no._ John turned slowly around, feeling like a man about ready to face the firing squad. Coach Kaminski stood hands on hips in the middle of the hallway, waiting. With shuffling footsteps, he walked up to her. She grabbed his chin and twisted his face back and forth, looking him over. Finally: "You look like shit."

"I feel like shit, Coach."

"McCarty tells me you barfed yesterday?"

"Yeah. I think I've got a bug or something."

"The black eye? The lip?"

"I was running to the toilet and ran right into the door."

"Well, I do not feel like stopping practice so I can haul your ass to the emergency room. Go home after school, get some sleep, and drink clear fluids. No invincible man bullshit, you hear me, Sheridan?"

"Yes, Coach."

"Should you be at school today? I'll talk to Sumalong, no problem."

"I've got a trig test, Coach." She nodded, one movement of her head up and down, and spun around and marched the other way. John let out a slow breath; that was close. Hopefully no one would contradict his story. George would be able to, but the pissant didn't play any sports and scurried away like a cockroach anytime Coach K showed up, so it wasn't likely he'd have to worry. John did have a trig test, but he didn't give a shit about that; he'd come to school today to see his girl.

She wasn't in front of her locker, though. He lingered around for a few minutes, but then the warning bell rang, so he ran up to get his crap out of his locker and slipped into history class with seconds to spare. A brief glance around the room to see what desks were free. George was missing; that was interesting. McCarty pulled his books off an empty desk next to him and stood. "Johnny, my friend, I've missed you!" he sang, arms out wide. John was too tired to think of a word that rhymed with _you_, so he just nodded weakly.

There was Delenn, in a desk against the opposite wall, smiling at him. John headed over to the runty Chess Club geek in the desk next to hers. "Move." Chess Geek got up immediately, and John flopped down in the vacated desk. Harrison was still writing questions up on the chalkboard. "Hey," he said, looking her way.

"Hello." Her voice was low, and her smile was shy. Would he be able to get away with a little PDA? He snuck a quick look over at the rest of the room. Everyone was staring their way with a mixture of confusion and hard-edged amusement. Lindsay in particular had a weird look on her face, her eyes narrow. No quick kiss, then. That was okay; plenty of time for kisses later.

He didn't have a clue what they covered in class that day; he just kept writing notes to Delenn, passing the same sheet of paper back and forth. At first she seemed reluctant to join in, trying to pay close attention to Harrison's lecture, but before long he had her ignoring the teacher with the rest of them.

_So I didn't sleep at all last night. I just kept thinking about you._

_I also had difficulty sleeping._

_I have to help my sister with her essay after school. You want to come back home with me?_

_Yes. I would like to meet your family._

_I would like to kiss you forever._

She put a hand over her mouth at that, a pink flush covering her cheeks. It was a long time before she could figure out what to write back.

_I find that to be an agreeable proposition._

xxx

"I can't believe you blew me off so you could sit next to the Minbari girl," McCarty whined while they waited in line in the cafeteria. "Who am I supposed to talk to during class?"

"Her name is Delenn."

McCarty slung an arm around John's shoulder, leaned in close. "I heard a rumor that you're trying to sleep with her."

John shook him off. "Who said that?" Then Lindsay skipped up and linked her arm through his. Grinning, clingy. John found himself dismayed when his body decided to smile without asking him about it first.

"Sit with me today, Johnny. You sat with the new girl yesterday, so you can sit with me today." They started filling their trays, and John tried to think of an excuse. Delenn was going to help him with his history homework? No, that wouldn't work; math, maybe, but there was no way she was better at Earth History than he was, and that was the only class they shared. "I always forget your dad's like an alien expert or whatever," Lindsay went on. "He probably tell you to be all nice to her on her first day?"

God, he did not want to talk about this right now. "Yeah, I guess."

"That's what I figured." Out of the kitchen and into the cafeteria proper again. He saw Delenn over at her corner table, sitting with Chess Geek and Really Pretty Church Girl. They were all chattering away, and Delenn laughed at something Chess Geek said. "Johnny, over here." Lindsay was sashaying to her usual table. It looked like Delenn had plenty of company, so John obediently followed Lindsay.

xxx

Approximately a million hours later, hour seven came to an end. John was so tired he could barely keep his eyes open. He was just going to wait for the halls to clear out a little bit first. He set a five minute alarm on his mobile and put his head down on his desk. He slipped almost immediately into a doze, so when a hand came down on his shoulder he jerked upright, flinging his arm out and smacking someone's stomach.

"Johnny!" He turned, and Lindsay was standing behind him, hand over her middle, glaring at him. "What did you do that for?"

"You scared me, Linds. Sorry." She sat in the desk in front of him, straddling the seat backwards, which, considering the length of her shorts, gave him quite a view.

"So what's going on with you?" she asked, batting her eyelashes. John realized that Delenn didn't have eyelashes. That was kind of weird.

"Just sleepy."

"You don't have practice tonight?"

"Coach K told me I could go home. She thinks I'm sick." Lindsay smiled at that, the slow, seductive smile he'd only seen from her once or twice. She flirted shamelessly with all the boys, but as far as he knew, she hadn't slept with any of them. No one even had any stories about kissing her. She was the Great Unknown, and the locker room was filled with bets over who would snag her first. John couldn't help but feel a twinge of desire when she reached a hand out and slid it up and down his forearm.

"So you can come do something with me, then?" Her eyes were so green, her hair was so red, and her breasts...

John's alarm went off, and they both jumped a little. He grabbed his stuff. "No, I told my sister I'd help her with her homework."

"The middle school doesn't let out for another half hour. Come on, Johnny, your sister can wait a little while."

"Maybe some other time, okay?" He stood up, and she was there beside him, putting her hand on his shoulder, sliding it down his bicep. Dark eyes looking up his way.

"I'd like that." She left then, and there was no doubt she put an extra something into her walk as she slipped out the door. John stood there for a minute, trying to figure out what had just happened. It had seemed like Lindsay had invited him to first base at least. At any rate, some time spent in her exclusive company, which didn't happen often. And he had turned her down.

He shook his head and made his way to the front doors. He really didn't want to go home and help Lizzie with her essay. It was probably going to take forever, and she could get really defensive when he pointed out mistakes. He'd go do something with McCarty, except that he was going to be at practice, of course. Maybe if he just climbed into bed and took a nap, Lizzie would see him sleeping and leave him alone. Mom could help her with the essay; she was a better writer, anyway.

He pushed open the front doors with a sigh. "John?" He turned, and Delenn was standing there, up against the lockers. He'd walked right by her. She didn't say anything else, and the confusion on her face made him feel like absolute shit. Had he really forgotten about Delenn?

"I'm sorry. I'm so tired, I can't even think." That much was true. He remembered checking out Lindsay's cleavage and a wave of guilt rolled over him. He was a bastard, he really was.

"You should go home, and rest."

"I'm planning on it." Her face didn't fall, but he could see her trying to hide her disappointment. "But only if you come with me." She smiled then, biting her lower lip. He took her bag from her, then grabbed her hand. He decided he didn't give a shit if anyone saw them. But it turned out that the parking lot was deserted, and they didn't pass anyone on the way to his car. He helped her in, then drove past the school to the baseball field, empty this time of year. He parked.

"What are you doing, John?" He turned and just looked at her. She didn't know that he'd had lusty thoughts about Lindsay today. She didn't know that he'd plain forgotten about their plans. He still wanted to make it up to her. He leaned over and kissed her, just like he had kissed her the night before. She hummed against his mouth, and he couldn't help but give her bottom lip a little lick as he pulled back enough to look at her. Her eyes were a tiny bit wide at that, and it made his chest feel a little tight. Whatever he'd felt for Lindsay back in the classroom was a pale shadow compared to what he was feeling for Delenn right now; in the future, when he wasn't bushed and groggy, he'd remember that. He leaned back and kissed her again.

xxx

His dad's study door was open which meant he was working from the office today; his mom always got home at 7:30 on the dot, and Lizzie had to ride the bus, so they had at least thirty minutes to themselves. John dragged Delenn up the stairs, but she stopped halfway up to look at the cluster of pictures on the wall.

"Don't. They're all embarrassing." She hushed him, and he wrapped his arms around her waist from behind, dropped his head down on her shoulder. Sniffed her neck. She squirmed a little at that.

"You look like your parents." He nodded. So sleepy. "This is your sister?"

"Lizzie."

"I would have liked to have had a sibling." He was going to say that it wasn't always all it was cracked up to be, but then he tried to imagine his life without Lizzie and got stupidly maudlin all of a sudden, so he just squeezed Delenn a little bit. Then he grabbed her hand and finished pulling her upstairs.

They went into his bedroom, and she looked around at his things like he'd done the night before to hers. She picked up the snow globe his dad had bought for him his eighth Christmas, when he'd been really into lighthouses for God knows what reason, and tipped it upside down with a smile. Then she looked at his bed, and the smile was replaced by a frown. The bed did look kind of awful, since he hadn't made it or anything, and then with a horrible wave of horror John wondered if his come was all over the sheets. He usually jerked off into a sock, but he couldn't remember if he had last night, and if so, where he'd put it.

Delenn had walked up to the bed, and short of just picking her up and hauling her out, he didn't know what to do. She looked it up and down. Was she inside his fucking mind? Then she turned to him, looking bewildered.

"Sorry, I, um, was running late this morning and-"

"Do you sleep on this?" she asked, and he understood the words just fine, but could not figure out what she was asking.

"Yes?"

"It is flat."

_Oh. Oh!_ That was what that triangular thing in her room had been. That had been her bed. That was...really weird. He nodded, and took the opportunity to sweep the flat sheet and covers off the bed. There was the sock! It was on the floor! He grabbed it up with the rest and stuffed everything into his laundry hamper. Pulled down the nice quilt his Grandma had made for him out of his closet, and as he shook it out over the bed he checked to make sure the fitted sheet was okay. It looked okay. He was afraid it would be too suspicious if he stripped that off, too. He kicked off his shoes and turned off the lights. There was just enough sunlight coming through his curtains that they could still see each other.

"John?"

"You said you didn't sleep good either. Come experience a human bed - it has got to be more comfortable than that slanted thing you sleep on." He laid down on his side, patted the bed next to him.

"Minbari believe that to sleep in the horizontal tempts death."

"I won't let you die." She hesitated a moment longer, then unfastened the side of her robe. She took it off, and for a split second John was expecting to see bare skin. But she was wearing a kind of short-sleeved slip underneath, plain and snug over her body. He tried not to stare at her, but he couldn't help but note her slim hips and tiny waist, and got a good look at the tops of her breasts as she leaned down to take off her shoes. Bigger than he'd thought, the skin milky white and perfect; his penis jumped up to attention and reported for duty. He'd been hoping to spoon her, but that definitely wasn't going to happen now. She gingerly laid down on her back beside him, hands clasped between her breasts, which just drew the fabric tighter over them.

_Sheridan, you fucking pervert, quit ogling her. _He carefully tucked the quilt up to her chest, then cupped her cheek, running his thumb over her cheekbone. She turned her head to the side, looking at him, and something about seeing her bone crest nestled down in his pillow made his eyes feel suspiciously wet and girly. He leaned over and brushed his lips against hers, then rolled over onto his back and went to sleep.


	4. Everything Changes

Everything Changes

Delenn slowly woke up to many different sensations, all new, all strange, and all pleasurable. It had taken her a few minutes after she had first laid down on John's bed to acquaint herself with the angle; she had been unable to shake the feeling that she was going to slide backwards right off the bed. Now, though, she felt incredibly comfortable, the mattress so soft that she felt like she was sinking into it. She generally only slept with a single light cover, setting the temperature in her room to compensate for cooler nights and a lowered metabolic burn. She was very warm under John's thick blanket, much warmer than she would have thought comfortable, but she liked it a great deal.

Mostly, though, she was aware of John's body behind hers, his chest against her back, his knees drawn up right behind hers. His arm tight around her body. His warm breath on the back of her neck. She would have expected to feel awkward waking up and being held like this, but instead it felt perfectly natural. He was making a light sleep sound, a rasp as he inhaled, much like her childhood gokk's sleep sound, and listening to the regularity of it lulled her back to sleep.

So Delenn did not hear the bedroom door open and close. She did not hear shouts from downstairs. She did not hear heavy footsteps coming down the hall, or the bedroom door being opened more forcefully. What awakened her was the lights coming on with sudden brilliance.

She had not expected to meet John's mother wearing only her shift while sleeping in his bed. By the look on her face, John's mother clearly had not expected to meet her in such a way, either.

"John, I would like to speak with you downstairs." Her voice was tight and controlled, and Delenn pulled the blanket up over her breasts, feeling horribly exposed. His mother was no longer looking at her, was in fact looking over her head at John behind her, pushing himself up on an elbow. Delenn still wished she could pull the blanket up over her head.

"Mom?" John still sounded half asleep. His arm tightened around her.

"Downstairs. Now." A long moment of no movement from either of them, and then John seemed to realize that his mother was going to wait for him to get out of bed to follow her out of the room. John climbed out of the bed, and even through the embarrassment and awkwardness Delenn couldn't help notice her body protest the removal of his warmth. He came around the bed and pulled the blanket up around her shoulders, then slid his hand down her back. Then he left, pulling the door closed behind him.

Delenn lay still for a few seconds, and then got out of the bed herself. How strange, to have to roll over, sit up, then stand, instead of just being able to push oneself upright. She pulled her outer robe back on, secured the fastens, and pulled back on her shoes. No longer feeling naked, she found herself needing to do something. John's mother had seemed quite upset with him, and whatever the cause, she had not wanted to speak to him in Delenn's presence. That worried her, especially since his mother had not greeted her, had not even acknowledged her.

Delenn straightened John's bed, pulling the blanket up over his ridiculously large pillows. The blanket was very pretty, different patterns and colors stitched together in a seemingly haphazard fashion that made a cohesive whole nonetheless. There were other articles of his clothing here and there, and she picked them up and placed them in the receptacle for that purpose. She tidied the items on his desk. Then there was nothing left for her to do without having actual cleaning tools, and it seemed an imposition besides. Now that she was no longer moving, she could hear voices, muffled and unintelligible. She went to the door and carefully opened it.

John and his mother were arguing, their voices drifting upstairs clearly enough to be understood. Delenn poked her head through the threshold and saw a young girl sitting at the top of the stairs, looking her way. The girl waved her forward, so Delenn walked down the hall to join her.

"What has the rule always been? No girls in the house if both parents are out. Not only did you bring a girl to the house, you had her in your bed!"

"We were just taking a nap! We had our clothes on for crying out loud."

"I saw her dress hanging up on your chair."

"Oh my God, she had on another one underneath. I guess she didn't want to wrinkle her fancy outer dress or something. What difference does it make?"

"It makes a lot of difference. There are rules in this house-"

"Yeah, a lot of stupid, pointless rules." Delenn looked down at the girl, who had her face pressed between two rails, listening avidly. Blonde hair, light eyes, very pretty. John's sister, Lizzie. Delenn knew that she should return to John's room, that she had no right to listen to this private conversation, but seeing his sister eavesdrop as well somehow presented enough of an excuse for her to stay right where she was.

"You are more than welcome to dislike my rules," John's mother continued, her voice lower and somehow more dangerous for it. "But you will abide by them. You're grounded, for one week. You come straight home after practice every day, and you're in for the weekend, as well."

"That's bullshit. This has nothing to do with your precious rules. This has to do with Delenn being Minbari."

"Stop being ridiculous, John."

"I heard you the other night, fighting with Dad. 'Doesn't John dating a Minbari bother you? Do you really want him dating one of _them_?'" Uneasy silence. Delenn tried to swallow the lump in her throat. It didn't matter how many times she heard something like that; it always stung. Then a small hand crept into her own, and she looked down to see Lizzie looking up at her, a warm smile on the girl's face.

"We'll talk about this later," John's mother said.

"No, we'll talk about it now."

"You can go to your room. When I say that we'll talk about it later, that is exactly what I mean."

"I have to take Delenn home."

"I'll call her host family. One of them can come pick her up." Then John came upstairs, walking so loudly Delenn wondered if he were trying to stomp holes through the floorboards. He paused at the top of the stairs, looking at her for a moment, his face angry and flushed. Then he went straight past her into his bedroom. Delenn felt horribly guilty - she should have not joined him in his bed, and certainly should not have removed any of her clothing. It was her fault that his mother was angry with him. She hoped that he would not be angry with her as well. He was the one who had asked her, after all.

He came back out of his room, shoes on his feet. "I'll take you home," he said, still sounding furious.

"You do not have to. I can wait for Judith. I do not wish to cause any further trouble." John wasn't looking at her, just shaking his head and scowling into the distance. "Should I wait downstairs?"

Their kisses before this point had been light, gentle, soft. This kiss was not; John put his hands on either side of her head and smashed his lips against hers, hard. He made a low sound in his throat and then released her. All of the air in the house seemed to vanish, and Delenn found every thought in her head must have joined the air. John put one arm around her, his hand squeezing her ribcage just beside her breast, and he looked down at his sister. "Liz, we will do your essay when I get back. I'll stay up all night working on it if I have to. Okay?"

The girl nodded, and John extended his other hand to help tug her up to her feet. "It's a good thing I like you," she said, and the grin on her face looked so much like John's that Delenn almost found it disturbing. "Otherwise I could tell Mom how much you just macked on your girlfriend." John smacked Lizzie on the shoulder, and she punched him in the upper arm. Were they having a fight? But no, they were still smiling at each other. Humans could be so odd.

xxx

John kept waiting for Delenn to ask where they were going, but she never did, just looked out the window like she had last night, watching the scenery go by. Every now and then her fingers would squeeze his lightly, and it took all his willpower not to pull over right then and there. But he kept driving around the lake, passing the shelters and the marina and the playgrounds, and after ten minutes came around to the side with rockier and steeper drops down to the water. No one did much fishing over here, and there were quite a few nice little turn-offs tucked away in the trees. He pulled into one of them and parked.

He came around the car to open her door, and helped her out. Delenn looked around them, a bemused smile on her face. Then John opened the back door and gestured for her to get back in the car. He could tell she wanted to ask him a question, but after a moment she nodded her head down to him once and gracefully climbed back in. He slid in after her and closed the door.

Then he put one arm around her waist and kissed her cheek. "I'm sorry," he whispered, brushing his lips against her little ear. He rested his head against hers, just breathed her in.

"Why are you sorry?"

"For my mom." She just shook her head against his, then turned to kiss the corner of his mouth, still a little tentative.

"You think your mother does not like me because I am Minbari." John nodded and sighed, and he would have given anything to keep Delenn from knowing that. He wouldn't blame her at all if she decided she'd rather not spend time with him outside school anymore; the last thing she needed was to hear more bigoted crap. "I have been thinking, John," she said, shifting to lay her head down on his shoulder. He hugged her close without realizing it. "And I cannot believe that your mother is that prejudiced."

"Delenn, you heard what she said."

"I can think of several reasons why she would not want you to spend time with a Minbari that have nothing to do with prejudice. Just remember what occurred at the game establishment. That type of thing will happen all the time. Your mother may wish to spare you that." He didn't want her to be right, because he didn't feel like being reasonable, and he certainly didn't feel like giving his mother the benefit of the doubt. But if Delenn preferred to think that his mom was just looking out for him, that was fine. That was definitely better than the alternative.

She rested a hand on his chest, then poked him with a finger. "You did not tell me you were not allowed to bring females into your house."

"My mom has a lot of rules like that. She likes rules."

"What occupation does your mother hold?"

"She's in corporate law. It's really boring." No talking after that. He held her, thinking about how long the next week would be. He planned to petition his dad when he got home, but Dad liked everything at home to be nice and quiet, and it was more likely to be that way if he sided with Mom. The grounding would likely stand. He might be able to finagle a single date this weekend, if he were very lucky.

John put a finger under her chin, tilted her face up. Kissed her, back to nice and slow. He wanted to taste her, but he didn't think she was quite ready for serious making out. Besides, it was kind of nice to have something to look forward to.

xxx

Delenn watched John walk back to his vehicle, fingers over her lips. Each time he kissed her was slightly different, and the kiss he had just given her in front of her house had been long and solid. She sensed some emotion behind it that left her feeling a little weak. He stood by his vehicle's door, looking at her. He had done this last night, as though he were waiting for her to say something else. He raised one hand and flopped it about in the air. Delenn was fairly certain that was a Human gesture of farewell, and she dipped her own head in return. After his vehicle had departed, and after checking to make sure no one was outside and looking her way, Delenn raised her own hand and flopped it about. Ridiculous.

After a few minutes she went inside, joining Judith at the large dining room table. Judith was grading papers, and Delenn pulled out her homework from her bag. They worked beside each other for awhile in companionable silence.

"You look happy," Judith finally said. Delenn wasn't sure how Judith knew that, since she had not seen her look up at all.

"I am. I take it you received my message?"

"Yes, thank you for calling this time. I didn't expect you home so early. I figured they'd have you stay for dinner."

"John is being put into the ground." Judith's head popped up at that, her pen hanging in the air. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but Delenn decided to save her the trouble. "That is what his mother said, at any rate. I assume it is a metaphor of some kind, because otherwise that sounds like a rather barbaric form of torture."

Judith's mouth grew very, very small, and Delenn suspected she was trying not to laugh. It was certainly not Delenn's fault that the English language was so imprecise, that each word had multiple meanings, and that every concept could be described with multiple words. "And why is John grounded?" Judith finally asked.

"He is not allowed to have female companions in his house without parental supervision."

"Ah." Much like _I see_, Judith was able to instill a great deal of meaning into such a short, small sound. Delenn appreciated the efficiency.

"What does it mean, to be grounded?" She could hear Livia coming in the front door.

"Usually, it means you can't leave the house, except for school or anything else very important."

"That means I won't be able to see John except at school for a week, and we only share one class." Delenn heard the petulance in her own voice and tried to remind herself that everything happened as the universe directed, though she wasn't very happy with this particular direction.

"Why can't you see John for a week?" Livia asked, bringing in two large bags of food. Delenn found the Human preoccupation of having a stranger prepare their food to be quite strange, but few of them seemed able to prepare food themselves, so she supposed it was for the best. Judith explained the situation to Livia as Delenn set out plates, utensils, and poured everyone glasses of water. They sat down to eat, and before too long Livia and Judith were telling each other stories of their days, and Delenn let their voices drift into the background. She slipped her lectern out of her robes and looked up the word she had heard John's sister say. _Girlfriend - __a female romantic partner._ She finished eating quickly and murmured an excuse, that she had more homework to complete, and they both flopped their hands in the air, not even looking her way. That was a good thing; Delenn couldn't quite keep a smile off her face.

She hadn't exactly lied; she did have more homework. She was not planning on completing it now, however. She moved quietly to the foyer and slipped Livia's mobile out of her purse, then hurried down the stairs to her room. She felt that Judith and Livia would respect her privacy, but she still did not wish to use the com unit in the study. She securely closed her door and then lay on her stomach on her bed, feeling obscurely that she was doing something of which she ought to be ashamed. Perhaps it was simply the memory of John's kiss, his arm around her, his body pressed against hers.

She scrolled through directories until she found John's mobile, then placed a call. "Hello?" His voice was wary.

"John? It is Delenn."

"Delenn, hi! I didn't know who L. Burke was."

"I am using Livia's mobile."

"Liz, that means you have to capitalize it."

"I'm sorry, you are still helping your sister. I will let you return to that; I did not mean to interrupt."

"We're almost done." Then Delenn heard Lizzie's voice in the background - _we're done! We're all done!_ "You sure?" he asked Lizzie, and then Delenn could hear them, but their voices were so muffled she couldn't make out what they were saying. John spoke to her again, voice clear: "I'm glad you called."

"Did your mother discipline you for bringing me home?"

"No, she didn't say a word. But my dad came home, and we all had to sit and have a talk, and I'm still grounded. But they're going to invite you and Judith and Livia over for dinner this weekend. Don't say anything to them; I think my mom wants to make the call."

"That will be nice."

"Do you think so? Because if you don't want to, I'll understand. It's not exactly as if she was that welcoming earlier."

"It sounds to me that she is trying to make amends for that. And I cannot blame her for being surprised at the way in which she met me."

He laughed a little. "Yeah, I guess." There was a long moment of silence. Delenn didn't know what to say; she had just wanted to hear his voice. "So I'm supposed to call my mom when I get home after practice tomorrow so she knows that I came home right after practice - I guess I'm ten years old again or something. Anyway, I was thinking. If you wanted to come watch practice, or stay after and do your homework or something, I could drive you home. I'd have enough time to do that. If you don't want to, that's okay."

"No, I would like to!" she exclaimed, glad that he had brought up the possibility. "I have been upset at the idea of not seeing you for a week."

"You'll see me."

"But you will not be able to linger after you have driven me home, so we will not see each other much."

"You'll see me at school."

"But we will be at school, John. We will not be able to speak privately, or..." She found herself blushing, and wondered that she felt too shy to say the word _kiss _when she had certainly kissed him plenty the last few days.

"Oh, we will. You'd be surprised what you can get away with at school. We'll figure it out." There was an anxious, fluttery feeling in her stomach at that, and she knew she'd spend the rest of the night wondering what he was planning.

xxx

Harrison was going on about feudalism or something, and John figured he'd borrow Delenn's notes before the test - she was somehow able to follow the lecture, write down notes, and keep up a conversation with him at the same time.

_What do you have next hour?_ he wrote to her.

_Calculus._

_Can you skip it?_

_What do you mean?_

_If you didn't go to class, would you miss anything important?_

_We are reviewing for a test. I could review at home, certainly. Why would I not go to class, though?_

_I just have study hall next hour. We could go someplace and talk._

_Would it not look suspicious if I were not in attendance for only a single hour, when I was present for the rest?_

_You could always ask to go to the nurse or something after attendance. Say you were sick._

_That would be a lie._

_You said you were upset that you couldn't see me. That's kinda like being sick. _

_That is an equivocation._

_Because Minbari never do that._

She looked at him askance then, and he was afraid for a second that he'd offended her. Then the corner of her mouth quirked up, and he knew he had her.

xxx

John had joined her as she walked toward the nurse's office, and he smoothly guided her right down the hallway past the office and more classrooms, to a part of the building to which she hadn't yet been.

"What if someone sees us, John?"

"The key is to look confident. Look like you're supposed to be going wherever you're going. See, the auditorium is locked during the day, but the band room isn't. And the band is down on the field practicing their marching." They entered the empty band room, walked to the back, and John opened a door and led her inside. "Except that you can get to the auditorium through the band room." He grinned at her then, and even though she still felt guilty for not attending her calculus class, she couldn't help also feeling excited.

The auditorium was dark, only a tiny amount of light from the small windows in the doors letting them make out where they were going. John led her up to a row of seats in the corner, and Delenn felt a thrill go through her as they settled down. She shouldn't be doing this, and would face disciplinary action if caught, and Judith and Livia would be quite upset with her if that happened. The knowledge of all that was what made it thrilling, and as John started kissing her Delenn wondered if his grounding was a bad thing after all. They likely would not have done this otherwise.

He had one arm holding her securely to him; his other hand was sliding up and down her side, but gently, with so little pressure that she could barely feel it. He licked her bottom lip again, like he had done yesterday. She didn't think, she just wanted _more_ of him; she opened her mouth to taste his lips as well, and their tongues met. If anyone had described to her in words the concept of pressing her tongue against someone else's, she would have thought it to be revolting. But it was perfect, and she leaned into him at the same time he made a startled sound, and pulled back to look at her with a dazed look on his face.

"What?" she whispered, and watched a slow smile appear, like a sunrise. He just shook his head, then claimed her mouth again, thumb pushing her chin down so he could slide his tongue inside her mouth. Delenn had had no idea that a kiss could be this rich and deep; she started to feel warm all over, her skin more sensitive. Time lost all meaning, and it was through a fog that she dimly became aware that she couldn't breathe. Her brain decided that continuing to kiss him was more important than breathing, but her body felt otherwise, and she pulled away and tipped her head back to draw in air.

John took the opportunity to kiss her neck, the tip of his tongue tracing her ear, his teeth nipping at a tendon. She moaned, then imagined his lips continuing to move down her body, and her hips jerked upward of their own accord.

John pulled away from her, even his arm sliding out from behind her back. He sat up straight, and Delenn felt her face go hot. She had never been so mortified before. "I'm sorry. I did not mean..."

He hunched over, elbows on his knees, drawing in long, deliberate breaths. "Let's just take a little break," he said, voice rough.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. She had never been at the mercy of her own body like that before, as though it were independent from her mind. John reached over and took her hand, weaving his fingers through hers. Even this simple touch seemed like too much contact; she wanted to climb onto his lap, and was appalled that such a thought had even occurred to her.

"What are you sorry for?" he asked, and she didn't have an answer. "You don't have anything to be sorry for." His lips back on hers. Distantly, some time later, Delenn heard the bell ring, signaling the hour was over. She just curled her fingers tighter in John's hair.

xxx

John knew he had a big shit-eating grin on his face, but he couldn't do a damned thing about it. Not only had he never experienced a better make-out session, he was pretty sure no one else in the history of the universe had ever so thoroughly explored first base before. When McCarty slammed into him, shoving him against his open locker door, John just laughed. It wasn't until he got a good look at his best friend's face that the smile finally slid off his face.

"You son of a bitch." John had no idea what was going on, and the confusion on his face just seemed to make McCarty even angrier. "Did you even bother to get started, or did you forget the minute you saw your new Minbari girlfriend?"

John shoved him back, heedless of the freshman girl McCarty stumbled back into. "The fuck are you talking about?"

"My Econ homework. That you promised you would do. And I wrote your stupid fucking paper for you, and I spent a lot of time on it, Sheridan."

"Are you joking? You're acting like this over some homework?"

"Eligibility for the next quarter is today! And now I'm below a C in Economics, and that means I'm going to sit on the fucking bench for the rest of the year."

"Why did you leave it on me, then? Jesus Christ, Nick, if one assignment is that important, you do it yourself. You didn't even remind me!"

"I called you three times last night!" God, he had. He'd heard his line ping at least a couple times when he'd been on the phone with Delenn, and he'd ignored them.

"I'm sorry about the Econ homework. I really am. But you being ineligible is not my fault. Maybe if you hadn't been riding the line-"

Then McCarty slugged him. John didn't even think, just punched him right back. Someone ended up pulling them apart, though John had no idea who. The worst part about getting in a fight at school was having to sit side by side afterwards outside Sumalong's office, waiting for the principal to call them in. McCarty spent the entire time with his face buried in his hands, and John could claim that none of it was his fault all he wanted - the truth was that he'd blown it, and fucked over his best friend. And there wasn't a thing he could do to make it any better.

xxx

Delenn walked back to her locker after seventh hour ended. She was planning on completing all of her homework in the library, then beginning her research for the psychology paper that was due next week. Part of her wanted to watch John at his sporting rehearsal, but she still felt a little light-headed, still felt not entirely in control of her own actions. She loaded her textbook and papers into her bag, then watched a young man trip as he was coming down the hallway toward her.

"Roses!" he said under his breath - though loudly enough for Delenn to hear - then picked up his things and continued on his way. None of the other students seemed to take any note. Delenn had to practically climb into her locker to hide her laughter. She had thought John's promise at the gaming establishment to be an example of Earth humor - a wild claim with no possible hope of completion. But he had done it; how, she had no idea. Her laughter died away as she wondered if he had done it for her.

"What are you doing?" John's voice, behind her, sounding lifeless and dull. Delenn realized she still was leaning into her locker, and turned to look at him. His face was still sporting a fading bruise around one eye and a healing cut on his lower lip; now there was a fresh contusion over the opposite cheekbone.

"John?"

He looked as though he wished to say something, but he finally just put his arms around her waist and dropped his head to her shoulder, letting out a sigh. Delenn stroked the back of his head and neck, aware of the looks they were garnering from the other students in the hallway. She closed her eyes, preferring not to see them, and murmured _everything will be all right_ in Adronato, feeling that the actual words were not as important as the implied comfort.

John took her hand and led her out to his vehicle. It was not just the students looking their way with surprise or wonder or disgust or what looked to her like fear; a few teachers also cast curious glances in their direction, two outside the front doors whispering to each other. John seemed not to notice at all, and Delenn endeavored to follow his lead. He drove to the diamond-shaped field he had taken her to the day before, and parked his vehicle with another sigh. Then he sat, staring forward at nothing, and she wondered if he remembered her presence. She wanted to ask him why he had collected her, why he was not at his rehearsal, but she was loathe to break the silence.

"I am such a screw-up," he finally said, and it hurt to hear the anger in his voice, anger she knew was directed at himself.

"What happened, John?"

He didn't answer for a long moment, and she wondered if he had even heard her. "I told McCarty I would do his Econ homework, and I forgot, and now he's ineligible and can't play." Delenn bit back her immediate response, which was that doing each other's work was cheating, and John should not feel guilty at all. It was not his work to complete in the first place. "He wrote a paper for me. I can write papers fine. I don't like to, but I can. But I told him I wouldn't do his Econ homework if he didn't do something for me. And then I completely forgot. So we got in a fight."

Delenn found herself wanting to tell him that he should not solve all of his problems with physical altercations, and that if he had not been so academically dishonest he would not have had this problem in the first place. But she quickly decided that he would hear all of that and more from his mother, if the conversation she had overheard yesterday was any indication. So she just took his hand, and they sat for nearly a quarter of an hour before John's mobile rang. He looked at the screen, and she thought he wouldn't answer, but he finally did.

He listened for awhile, his face impassive. "I know," he said, and his hand squeezed hers. "I know, Mom. Yeah, I'm suspended for three days." More listening. "I'm at the baseball field. Yeah, with Delenn. I just needed to see her for a little bit, okay?" There was a tremble in his voice, and Delenn realized he was far more upset than she had thought, and she had thought him to be quite upset. He leaned his head back, closed his eyes. "Okay. Thank you, Mom. I love you, too." He ended the call, and brought her hand up to his mouth, kissed the back of it. "She said you could come back to the house with me. If you wanted to."

"Of course." He kissed her hand again, a gesture that was somehow more intimate than the kisses they had shared in the auditorium, and then he drove her back to his house.

xxx

There was something on the vidscreen. John had no idea what it was; his eyes were pointed that way but he certainly wasn't watching. He didn't think Delenn was, either. Her head was nestled against his shoulder, her face turned to the side. Lizzie had come home a few minutes earlier, looking at the two of them snuggled up on the couch with wide eyes, and John had waved her over. She had plopped down on the other side of him, and he'd hugged her close. A nice warm girl sandwich. What was on the screen? Girls and boys trying on dresses and screaming; one of Lizzie's shows. He supposed she was the one watching, then.

The dress show gave way to a show about raising horses in Wyoming, which was a little more interesting. Lizzie did her homework, and after a bit Delenn got hers out, too. John knew he'd have a shit-ton of work to do himself, but he couldn't make himself care. He watched Delenn write - perfect neat letters, every _a_ looking exactly like every other _a_, the same with all the other letters. It was a little creepy. He supposed learning to write in a different language was hard enough, without also learning a new alphabet, too. For the first time he realized just how hard she had to have worked to be able to come here, and he'd cajoled her into skipping class so they could make out.

_Fuck-up. Such a fucking fuck-up_. Delenn had told him on the phone last night about mishearing the word "grounded," and how Judith had tried not to laugh. He thought of that story again, and figured that Delenn had been right the first time. He should just dig a hole in the back yard and climb inside. John rested his head on top of Delenn's, and blinked hard against sudden stinging tears. _Don't you fucking cry, you goddamned girl._ Dad had once sat him down, after Grandma Sheridan had died two years ago, and told him that there was nothing wrong with crying - that it wasn't unmanly, or anything to be ashamed of. That it was important to allow yourself to experience your emotions, and not try to shut them out. John still thought it was a load of horseshit; they wouldn't give him a medal at the Academy for experiencing his emotions, they'd probably toss him in a latrine. Might as well get used to acting like an actual man now.

Keys in the door. Mom. She was home early. John sat up a little, took a quick swipe at his stubbornly leaking eyes, and then she came in, giving them all a once-over. "Oh, John," she said, shaking her head at him. Then she pulled out some credits from her purse. "Go get some pizzas." Lizzie eagerly snatched the money, started counting. John stood, grabbed his mom and hugged her tight. He forgot about the fact that he was almost a full head taller than she was; for a second, he felt like he was about nine years old again.

"I'm sorry," he whispered. She pulled back and looked at him, that look that he could never evade, that he had to endure.

"We need to get your life in order, John Sheridan," she said, and John felt at that moment that whatever he had managed to fuck up, she would figure out how to fix.

"I know."

xxx

Delenn didn't know how she felt about pizza. The bits of meat on top tasted good, but the texture of the melted cheese was not pleasant, and the rest didn't taste like much at all. But John and Lizzie were eating it like they had not eaten in weeks, making incoherent sounds of pleasure, and Delenn did not wish to make them feel guilty for selecting a food she did not particularly care for. So she smiled every time they looked over at her, chewing and chewing, though she had a feeling that John's mother was not convinced.

She had finally introduced herself as Miranda Sullivan, shaking Delenn's hand and warmly welcoming her to their home. As John had driven to pick up the pizzas, Delenn tried to work out how she felt about Miranda. The woman had been very angry with John for bringing her to the house, enough to punish him for a solid week. But when he had fought with another student at school, which to Delenn seemed a more serious mistake by far, his mother had rewarded him. It was most puzzling. Delenn wished to ask John about it, but he had turned up a very loud song on his vehicle's sound system, and he and Lizzie were singing along with horrible voices at the top of their lungs.

Someone was entering the house - a man, as tall as John and with the same eyes, who looked a bit older than Miranda. He smiled as he looked at the four of them around the table. John's smile.

"It's good to meet you. I'm David Sheridan. You must be Delenn." She stood and held out her hand to complete the Human greeting ritual, but David made a triangle with his hands and bowed to her. _"May our friendship be a happy one,"_ he said in perfect Adronato, better even than Livia's; Delenn could only bow her head in return, too honored to speak. David joined them, eating the cooling pizza with nearly as much enthusiasm as his children. Delenn finally finished her piece and then just watched the Sheridans eat, and talk, and laugh.

Dinner with Livia and Judith was usually rather quiet. And dinners at home on Minbar were usually taken alone; her father rarely returned home before she retired to her own room. How strange to sit amidst so much chatter and noise. Now David was telling a story about his day, and everyone listened with bright faces.

"Of course, I don't usually get involved in the usual inter-departmental spats, but I'll be damned if I was going to sit there and not say anything to that bully. Making Theresa cry like that. But he's technically my boss, and I don't really want to go back to the trade negotiation runs, on a ship 300 days out of the year. So I think, what would show him, without putting my own ass on the line? And then I remember when he came back from the Drazi homeworld, his one and only trip."

"You didn't. Dad, you didn't." John looked positively joyous, and Delenn was confused, as she always was when a Human's words did not match his face.

"Two phone calls and a bottle of eighteen-year-old Glenkinchie, and what do you know, a two-foot-long Great Desert Scorpion just happened to make its way into his office." Miranda had her face buried in her hands. John hit the top of the table. David went on: "He screamed for about five minutes, and then he threw up." Lizzie laughed so hard she slid out of her chair and onto the floor. Delenn didn't understand why this story was funny, since it sounded as though the man in question was quite terrified of the insect, but being in the center of so much mirth made her unable to keep a smile off her own face. Miranda looked up at David, and she wasn't laughing; Delenn thought that she might scold her husband. But instead she just put a hand over his.

"It's about time someone gave that jackass a taste of his own medicine," Miranda said. "I've hated him ever since he hit on Padma at the New Year's party after sending Dev clear out to the edge of the Rim." David had also done something morally suspect, and Miranda approved of it. Delenn simply did not understand the woman.

Lizzie was still hooting out laughter, and John tugged her back up into her chair. He turned to look at Delenn, all traces of his former grief and anger entirely gone. His eyes were bright, and his smile sunk barbs into her heart. He snuck a hand under the table and squeezed her knee. Delenn wasn't sure how it was possible - she had known him for only four days. He did many things of which she did not approve. He was rowdy and boisterous and often acted without thinking. More importantly, he was Human, and she was Minbari. None of it mattered. Delenn realized that she loved him.

xxx

"No. A run has to be all the same suit. Four in a row." Delenn shot him a quick glare that she would no doubt deny if he mentioned it, and picked her cards back up. She rearranged her hand again.

"I thought sets were all the same suit."

"No. A set is like three tens." Delenn stared at her cards. John snuck a quick glance around the table. Mom and Dad weren't even looking her way, were idly studying their own cards - but they were old hat at never betraying their thoughts when it came to aliens. Lizzie was smiling like an idiot, and John kicked her under the table. Delenn finally discarded, looking pretty unhappy.

His turn to draw. Another wild card - he could go out now if he wanted to, but decided to sandbag a little bit. At least until Delenn managed to lay something down. She hadn't done so yet, not the entire game. The first few hands that hadn't seemed to bother her, but he could tell she was getting frustrated. He was pretty sure his dad was sandbagging, too; he barely looked at his own draw before discarding it.

"How are you enjoying Earth, Delenn?" his mom asked, and John was going to get up early and go out and buy her breakfast. The last time he'd tried to make her breakfast - last year on Mother's Day - he'd forgotten to peel the onion before he chopped it up for the omelet. The year before that he'd put liquid smoke instead of vanilla in the pancakes. Best to just buy it - maybe some big gooey cinnamon rolls or something.

Delenn smiled. "It is not at all what I expected. Such wide open spaces - I thought the planet would be much more crowded, based on your population density figures."

"That's because those are averaged over the whole planet," Dad said, elbows up on the table, smiling his lopsided smile. "There are places on Earth that are so crowded it's tough to figure how people keep going. But Midwestern America is still pretty open."

They finished the hand. Delenn managed to lay down a paltry set of fours, and John and his dad sandbagged too long and Lizzie managed to go out and catch them both. Then John started to hear real distant rumbles of thunder. Delenn noticed them, too, and her eyes got a little wide. She looked around the room, and over at him. John pretended not to notice, shuffling the cards ostentatiously.

"Delenn, watch." He splayed them all out, then flipped over the end to make the whole line flip in succession. Just as he raised his head to grin at her, hoping to get a grin in return, a good, loud crack sounded as lightning sounded someplace close. Delenn jumped, clapped a hand over her mouth, but not before she let out a tiny scream.

"Thunderstorm! Thunderstorm!" Lizzie ran to the backdoor, flinging it open to plop down on her back on the back deck. Delenn was still staring at him, and John couldn't tell if she was just surprised or if she was actually a little afraid.

"I thought you had lightning on Minbar?" Dad asked. She shook her head.

"Only at the poles. I have never-" But she didn't finish her sentence. This time, they could see the flash of the lightning. One thousand one, one thousand two. _Boom!_ He could hear Lizzie's delighted giggles from the back porch.

"Lizzie! Get inside!" Mom got up to make sure Liz complied, and Dad gathered up the coffee mugs, dropping John a sly wink. John stood, helped Delenn up.

"You want to go watch the storm come in?" She didn't nod, didn't smile, just looked at him. Close enough to a _yes_ as far as he was concerned. He took her hand and led her down the hallway, past Dad's study and around the corner to the greenhouse. Three of the four walls were glass windows from top to bottom, and all of the roof. He settled them down on the wicker loveseat - his kingdom for a futon! - and snuggled her close. Dad would keep Mom occupied. They'd have a half hour at the very least. John kissed her neck, her jaw, then tucked her head under his chin.

Lightning flashes all around, the sky laced with them. Respectable thunder. Rain started up first as a vague sprinkle that barely registered against the glass, and then within seconds there was a torrent, the clatter of the raindrops against the roof almost loud enough to drown out the thunder. Delenn slowly relaxed against him, realizing that there was nothing to fear.

"Thank you," he whispered, and he didn't figure she'd be able to hear him over the rain and thunder. But she turned in his arms, looking up at him.

"For what?"

"For coming here. Not just to my house tonight. Thank you for coming to Earth. For coming to my high school. I can't imagine my life anymore without you in it." He held his breath; that was a hell of a thing to say, and as the silence after his words lengthened John felt his heart start knocking in his chest. She was looking at him, but he couldn't tell what she was thinking. Finally she brought her hand up to his face, and he watched a single tear slide down her face, twinkling like a diamond as a bolt of lightning snaked overhead.

"Thank you for being here." She slid her hand around to the back of his head, drew him down for a kiss. John knew that this was it - he'd met the woman he was going to spend the rest of his life with.


	5. A Line in the Sand

A Line in the Sand

_March 13, 2233. Barcelona, EU._

_Two recent Minbari immigrants were the victims of a vicious assault late Saturday night. Barcelona police have released few details, but it is believed that Halenn and Rayan, brothers, were ambushed on their way home after attending classes at the Universitat. The severity of their wounds is not known at this time, though they are still in stable but critical condition in Hospital Dos de Maig. This is the latest in a series of anti-Minbari incidents taking place the last six months in the Union. _

_A survey last week reports that 58% of EU citizens believe that Minbari immigration should be brought to a halt in light of the recent conflicts on Orion 7. _

_Laurence Adams, Global Press._

xxx

"Did you know that all of your hairs are not the same color?" Delenn was lying behind him on the bed, carefully combing through his hair with her fingernails; John was torn between wanting to surrender to sleep and wanting to roll over and ravage her. Since the latter was not an option, and he really didn't want to waste any time alone with her, he made himself stay awake. It was tough, though; he didn't usually have anyone playing with his hair, and it felt fantastic.

"They're not all blond?" he asked, wishing she'd snuggle up against his back a little bit more.

"Some are light blond and some are dark blond, and there is an area here where they look nearly white. It is very strange, the sight of all these hairs poking through your skin."

John opened his eyes to confirm that the only light on in the room was his desk lamp, which he'd set to low. "How can you even see?"

"Minbari have better eyes than Humans."

"So when it's all sunny and bright outside, does it hurt your eyes?"

"Our pupils contract the same as yours."

John rolled over to face her - she'd brought up something that had been bugging him since long before Delenn moved to town. "How come we still know so little about you guys? You've been moving here and we've been moving to Minbar for almost five years; our species met over fifty years ago. Besides the basics, there's not a lot of data out there on Minbari - your culture, your history, your biology. Trust me, I've looked."

"What have you tried to research? You can ask me any question you have - you do not have to use the computer."

"Why isn't any of that information there in the first place, though?"

"John, what did you wish to know?" She was smiling at him, so sweet, and John had to look down. He traced the stitches in his grandma's quilt, trying to think of a question; there was no way he was going to tell her that he'd been trying to figure out if his tab would fit in her slot. (_Did she even have a slot? What if she didn't?_) Delenn put a finger under his chin, delicately raised his face to hers. "Were you looking up information on Minbari sexuality?"

"No!" he blurted out, eyes darting over to his bedroom door. Mom and Dad were having coffee with Judith and Livia in the parlor, and he'd hear if anyone came upstairs, but he was positive that they were outside the door right this instant, listening. "No, I was..." But he couldn't think of anything, not a single thing. His mind was blank, like it had been sandblasted clean. He felt his ears go hot. But Delenn just smiled brighter, her finger running along his jaw.

"It's all right. I have done some research into Human sexuality. Of course, all of the information was readily available. I believe I learned more than I needed to. Quite a bit of it was...very strange to me."

"It's just...if we can't, you know. I mean. It's okay if we can't. That's not why I'm with you. That's not all I care about. I'd like to, of course. But."

"John, it's fine. Don't worry. We will be physically compatible." John tried not to throw a hand over his forehead and sigh out a _whew!_, but he could tell that Delenn saw it in his eyes. She leaned in to peck him on the lips. "To answer your other question, the truth is - I don't know. I would imagine our leaders do not wish any species, not just Humans, to know more about Minbari than is strictly necessary. We are a private people. It would be quite unseemly for strangers to be familiar with our rituals, our traditions. This is what I find so odd and yet fascinating about Humans - your openness. You even allow strangers to watch recordings of your mating practices!"

God. Delenn had watched some porn? She was shaking her head and acting like it had grossed her out, but there was a delightful pink flush on her cheeks. John moved the hand on her hip down to her waist, sliding it with just the right amount of pressure so that she would know it was deliberate. "It can be useful to watch those recordings," he said, pitching his voice low, wanting to see more of that pretty blush. "It's a good way to pick up some tricks."

Now she was the one toying with the quilt, and John let himself smile a nice, smug smile. When she'd said that they were "physically compatible," she hadn't said it as a hypothetical. She'd said it as though it were definitely going to happen. And when it did, he was going to blow her mind. But then she looked back up, her eyes right on his. "I would not rely on your Human recordings, John. They may help you some, but there is a great deal more involved when it comes to...what is the word? Seducing a Minbari." She leaned close, her lips just an inch from his. "I promise, I will show you whatever 'tricks' you require."

John didn't care if everyone came upstairs and hung out right here in the room with them - he rolled her onto her back and pounced. Delenn laughed into the kiss, and John decided that he was never going to stop kissing her.

xxx

_Transcript of "That's Just the Way it Is," __Episode No. 306, Original Broadcast May 25, 2233. Hosted by Raquel Stevens. Guests Russian Federation representative Nadia Romanova, European Union Parliament member Jules LeFebvre, and North American Congressman Julio Jimenez._

_Stevens: Let's talk about Orion 7._

_LeFebvre: I'm not sure what there is to talk about. The entire situation is a disgrace._

_Jimenez: I agree. I think all we're doing is digging Earth into a deeper and deeper hole. At some point, we're going to have to draw a line._

_Stevens: Ms. Romanova?_

_Romanova: With all due respect, it's far too early to declare the Orion 7 experiment a failure._

_LeFebvre: Experiment? How can you begin to call that absurd and, frankly, embarrassing chain of events an experiment?_

_Romanova: I'm afraid I do not see what is so embarrassing about it. In fact, I would say that it has been a useful exercise - humanity would be well served by learning a little humility. We need to be reminded on occasion that we are not the center of the universe._

_Jimenez: That's all well and good in theory, but all that's happened as a result of Orion 7 is that the rest of the galaxy now sees Earth as weak. That when push comes to shove, we'll back down._

_Stevens: A fact perhaps born out by recent Drazi incursions into Earth colonial space?_

_Romanova: Ludicrous. There's no causal link between the Drazi's actions and the tension surrounding Orion 7, and you can't invent one just by wishing it to be so. The bottom line is that the majority of Earth's history is defined by one group of people - clans, tribes, nations, empires - deciding that they would take something that didn't belong to them - land, resources, people. It has always ended in bloodshed and misery. At some point, we must stop reaching out and expecting to take whatever ends up in our grasp. That includes Orion 7. Earth has no claim on that planet, no matter how much we'd like to argue otherwise. Just because we landed first, just because the first city was ours, doesn't mean that the planet itself can be owned by anyone. If we cannot share that land with the Minbari, how can we expect to share the galaxy with everyone else? We have to set aside our differences, our petty human desire to always win, to always be in charge, and learn to co-exist. It is the only way there will be peace._

_LeFebvre: Peace? Tell that to the thirty-three colonists dead in New Corning's mine. Tell that to the over two thousand colonists - good, hard-working men and women - forced to relocate by a bunch of Minbari warrior thugs._

_Romanova: We still don't know what happened at New Corning. Why are we so incapable of giving anyone the benefit of the doubt? Every investigation points to the mine collapse as an accident, pure and simple._

_Jimenez: Or a Minbari attempt to kick the Humans off Orion 7 once and for all, so they can have the planet to themselves._

_Romanova: But there's no proof of that! It's just a conspiracy theory._

_LeFebvre: Feel free to keep your head buried in the sand. I've personally opened up a new investigation into the role the Minbari Grey Council took during the allocation of land on Orion 7. What little information we've already uncovered is, to be completely honest, terrifying. I think that people will be very afraid to learn just how close the Grey Council and certain parts of EarthGov have become - we're all going to have to become very vigilant, or before you know it, we'll start losing land on Proxima 3, and then on Mars, and finally on Earth itself. And I promise, right here and now, that I for one will not allow that to happen!_

_The audience applauds._

xxx

He didn't want to do it. He wanted to walk down to Mrs. Shrew's room, check in for ISS, and pretend that none of it ever happened. But John made himself keep walking to Sumalong's office, and every time he thought about turning around, he imagined what Delenn's face would look like if she discovered he'd backed out. The disappointment he'd see in her eyes.

John knocked on the door, feeling clammy and gross. After an eternity, the door clicked open. Sumalong behind his desk, looking grim. Coach Kaminski standing in the corner, arms crossed, looking grimmer. John sat down, all his energy devoted to keeping himself still. _Don't fidget. Don't look like you're afraid you're going to catch on fire._

"Principal Sumalong, Coach. Thanks for talking with me."

"Of course, Mr. Sheridan," Sumalong said, perfunctory, and already John knew that it was a lost cause. But he soldiered ahead anyway.

"I said I wanted to talk to you about Nick McCarty and his eligibility."

"You mean the fact I lost my best receiver, Sheridan?" Coach wasn't happy, either. He was surprised she hadn't kicked him off the team, too.

"Nick was ineligible because of me. I promised I would help him out with Economics, since I took it last semester. He's been working really hard, but I'm the one who let him down. He's already done the assignment, and his grade's back up to a C. Please, give him another chance."

"Mr. Sheridan, as you're well aware, our eligibility requirements are exacting because we do not want this very scenario to take place. Your academics should be your priority while you are attending this school. Extracurricular sports are all well and good, but they cannot take precedence over your classes." Coach glanced over at Sumalong at that, and John saw his opening.

"Principal Sumalong, I agree. But the fact is that not everyone's an intellectual - which is why the eligibility requirements are for passing grades, not As. Nick is a smart guy in certain things, but you can't expect everyone to be good at everything. He's really good at sports, and that intelligence should be just as important as any other intelligence. It means so much to him, being able to play. Cut me instead." John looked at Coach, and put every ounce of sincerity he could into his eyes. "I mean it. I would rather sit on the bench - I'll even clean out the locker rooms. Just give Nick another chance."

Silence, as Sumalong and Coach looked at each other. Finally Sumalong spoke: "Thank you, Mr. Sheridan. We will certainly consider it." Was that it? Seemed so. John got up, not knowing what else to say, and left.

ISS. If school was usually boring, then ISS was some kind of horrible nightmare of boring. There was something vaguely comfortable about the small size of the room - cubicle, really - but that wasn't enough to combat the long hours all by himself, doing stupid assignments on his lectern. Since there wasn't anyone around to distract him, he got done early, so he read some essays on World War II. Of course, they would never cover anything interesting like that in class; it was all paradigms and cultural shifts and societal blah blah. Nothing like this - thrilling battles, great leaders, military strategy. The final bell ended up surprising him, and he checked out with Mrs. Shrew, then ran down to find Delenn.

She was chatting with Pretty Church Girl, whose name was Yvonne. John realized he'd been going to school with her since second or third grade, and couldn't remember ever talking to her. But she smiled up at him just as nice as could be, leaning up against the locker next to Delenn.

"Hey, pretty girls," he drawled, mirroring Yvonne's pose, liking the way Delenn blushed and looked down at her feet. "What're you up to?"

"I'm trying to get Delenn to join Theater Club."

"But Earth theater is completely different from Minbari theater!" Delenn protested. John could see her heart wasn't in it; that she was in fact tickled to have been asked.

"You don't have to know anything about theater," Yvonne said, grinning. "We just build the sets."

Delenn looked up at him, and he ran his finger around the arc of skin between her bone crest and ear. He'd learned that was a pretty sensitive area, and she bit her bottom lip in the most lovely way. "You'd have fun," he said, imagining her surrounded by friends like Yvonne, laughing and gossiping as they stapled muslin to wooden frames and painted crap scrounged from yard sales.

"I'll think about it," she allowed, and took his hand.

"Yvonne, you want a ride home?"

"No, thanks, John. I've got tutoring in the library. Have you ever thought about being a tutor? You're always on the honor roll, and you're great at math."

"I don't know. I don't really have time." Yvonne just nodded, gracefully letting him off the hook. John felt ashamed; he was always off doing dumb stuff with McCarty, or watching pointless vids. Two weeks ago he'd spent almost a hundred credits just screwing around in the arcade. "Maybe some time." Yvonne waved goodbye as she headed up the stairs, and John walked out to his car, hand in hand with Delenn.

George, sitting out on the front steps with his loser friends. They all looked their way as they passed. "Hey, Sheridan. Hey, bony." John felt his hand squeeze tight around Delenn's and he ground his teeth, but she kept pulling him forward, not registering that she had heard at all. He got her into the car and drove up to the baseball field before he let out a string of curses.

"John. He is an ignorant, unpleasant person. I do not care about his opinion of me."

"You shouldn't have to hear shit like that."

"Are you still grounded? You should probably drive me home now, so that your mother does not grow angry with you."

"She said we could go back to my house or your house. No naps, though. I couldn't tell if she was joking or not."

"Let's go back to my house," she said, clasping his right hand between both of hers. Then she brought it up to her lips, kissed the back of it. Something almost bashful in her eyes, hesitant. John thought about the other girls he'd been with in this car, and how nothing he'd done with any of them could compare with just the feel of Delenn's hands around his, the simple and surprisingly sweet things she would do just like that. Let George make fun all he wanted; he'd never be as happy as John was any time he was with her.

xxx

_Look, I've been driving the mag-train between New York and Kansas City for almost fifteen years now. Not a lot of actual driving involved; it's almost all computerized. But every now and then you gotta take it off auto, and then you gotta be ready. Detours, bad weather, some crazy person raising a ruckus in one of the cars. But most of the time I can just keep an eye on the passengers, and I hear a lot of stuff. Stuff that no one thinks is being overheard, even though there're signs everywhere. _

_There's a guy who works in Philly, has a family in East St. Louis. Makes the trip every weekend. He's got a boyfriend in Philly his husband doesn't know about, and a girlfriend in Ohio his boyfriend doesn't know about. Can't keep any of it straight. Always buying the wrong gift for the wrong person, calling from the wrong phone, forgetting where he's supposed to be. But get this - he's never been caught. Says none of them even suspect. I go ahead and eat a nice, greasy meatball sub even though I'm supposed to be off all the good stuff, Marie somehow knows about it and gives me the third degree. She pulls it outta thin air, I swear._

_Then there's the broad who's pocketed away almost a hundred thousand credits just knocking the payments clients make to her boss up to the nearest zero. When people are already paying five hundred or a grand, they don't notice an extra twenty bucks. She's gonna move to France, she says. Live on the beach. Wish I had the balls to pull something like that._

_But the worst? The absolute worst? There's this girl, visits her mom in Schenectady once a month. Prettiest thing I've ever seen. Just absolutely gorgeous. Like one of them old movie stars, back when they used to film 'em in black and white. This girl could have anyone she wanted. Could just pick someone out of a crowd. I've seen men stare at her with a look in their eyes like they've never seen anything so beautiful in their lives. I've seen men trip over the seats, run into the doors. And who is she going with? A Minbari. Can you believe that? A girl as pretty as that, throwing herself away on some bony freak. Ought to be a crime. It's just not decent, mixing between species like that. Who knows what'll happen. I try to imagine what a baby would look like, and it just plain gives me the creeps. She's such a pretty girl. Ought to be a crime._

xxx

Delenn felt John calm beside her - he always seemed so high-strung, so full of energy. That first night, when they'd returned to her house after the fight at the arcade, he had told her that he sometimes meditated. Not enough, she thought. His hand was loose around hers, and she snuck a glance his way. His eyes were still directed toward the candle flame, but they were flat, unfocused.

Satisfied that John was well on his way to a deep meditative state, Delenn let his presence drift away, retreated within herself. She ran through the experience outside the school's entrance again. _Hey, bony._ What did those words make her feel? Shame. Anger. Why was she ashamed? She was proud to be Minbari. She would not change her heritage, her identity, for any reason. Where did the shame come from? Delenn went deeper, making herself brave those cold, dark depths. Shame only covered something else, a veneer thinly applied. What was the source of her shame?

She found it, seemingly locked away, and it was ugly to behold. Pride. Pride in something as subjective and forever changing as her physical appearance. She should take no pride in her appearance, as her body was simply the one given to her by the universe. She had no hand in it at all. The Human's remarks had wounded that pride, and for the first time, she had felt self-conscious about her looks, something she had always taken for granted. If the Human had found her attractive, he would not have said such a thing; therefore it followed that he found her unattractive. Repulsive.

There was the anger, blooming inside her, white-hot flames. Anger should never be driven completely out; it was good to feel outrage when outrage was just, necessary to use that outrage as fuel for unavoidable conflicts. But this anger did not feel just. It felt jarring, out of place. Flames scorching precious things. She was angry that George found her ugly. Why? Why did she care what he thought? Because of why he thought she was ugly - she was not his kind. She was Minbari. She was not John's kind. She was angry because his words reminded her of a more deeply buried fear, all tangled up with her pride - that John would not want her.

Delenn came back to the real world, letting her brain begin to accept outside sensory input once more. First the sensation of sitting on the ground. Then the candle light, flickering gently before her. John's hand in hers. John. Delenn turned to look at him, and found that he was already watching her, a curious look on his face she hadn't seen before.

"Hey," he said. Looking at him now, she could see no shred of disgust in his eyes, no glimmer that he found her unpleasing to look at. But as she always felt after meditating, Delenn was too raw, too open to censor her thoughts.

"Do you think I'm pretty?" she asked, wanting him to be honest. Still, she wasn't ready to see the slight shake of his head. Something inside her twisted, and she hadn't realized just how much his opinion meant to her.

But then he brought his hands up to either side of her face, cupping it gently. "I know it." It took her a heartbeat to work out, and before she could reply he was kissing her; soft, perfect kisses. Delenn resolved, as John brought one hand to the back of her head to hold her more securely, as he deepened the kiss, that she would never feel shame or anger again if someone made a rude comment. They didn't matter. Only this mattered.

xxx

_Why did the Minbari cross the road? To steal that side of it, too!_

xxx

John drove home, a bit earlier than he would have liked, but he wanted to get back before his mom came home from work. She had canceled his grounding without much comment, and he'd been too surprised at the time to say much more than _thank you_. He didn't want to go too far with it. He was still thinking about Delenn, and what she'd asked him, as he pulled into his driveway, and it took him a second to notice McCarty sitting on his front porch.

_Shit._ He hadn't seen him at all since their fight, since that wait outside Sumalong's office, since they'd both been suspended. He'd been afraid he'd run into him this morning when he checked in for ISS, but they never crossed paths. McCarty didn't stand as John got out of his car and walked his way, barely even looked at him. After a long beat, John awkwardly sat down next to him.

"I'm back on the team. Coach says I should thank you for it."

"No. I didn't...it was my fault in the first place, Nick. I haven't been a very good friend lately. You were right. I was so caught up with Delenn and I just...I'm sorry."

Silence after that. It occurred to John that McCarty hadn't actually thanked him - just said that Coach had told him to. Was he grateful? Had he forgiven John? If neither, was he at least willing to just forget the whole thing?

"Remember when I finally made it with Janelle?" McCarty asked. "I didn't think about anything other than those two wonderful minutes for the next week." John grunted, not sure where this was going. "So...you make it with Delenn yet?"

"No," he answered with a laugh.

"Come on. Third base?" John shook his head. "Second?"

"We're up to tongue. That's it."

"Pussy."

"You fucker, I've known her for nine days."

"Probably just trying to put off her profound disappointment when she realizes you've got a dick the size of my little finger."

"Please. I'm hung like a horse."

"One of those little ponies they have monkeys ride at the fair?"

"You know, now that you've mentioned it, I've always wondered - do they have to give those ponies treats so they'll let you ride them?" McCarty laughed, shoved him over. John grabbed him and pulled him down the porch stairs into the yard, then raced around to the back - he knew McCarty would follow, he just hoped he could get to the garden hose before McCarty figured out the plan.

xxx

_Minbari immigrant files lawsuit against Chicago City Council this week. Claims employment was unfairly terminated in wake of New Corning mine collapse. Lawsuit triggers march downtown. Protesters drew police response after Minbari temple was set on fire._

xxx

Yesterday had been the last day of John's suspension. Delenn was still confused by how the whole thing worked - he told her that he had to do something called "in-school suspension," which seemed a contradiction to her. Even though he had picked her up in the morning and taken her home after school, the three days themselves had been strange. She didn't like being in history without him, especially with George on the other side of the room. Sitting beside Jared was not the same. Jared did not wish to pass notes back and forth; he just played chess on his lectern.

But now things were back to normal, and Delenn felt at ease with her routine restored. It was hard to really believe that it had been only two weeks since she had begun school; it felt much longer than that.

_I feel like I've been attending school with you for ages._

John grinned at the note, and seemed to consider his response carefully. She wasn't sure why, since he usually dashed off a reply without even thinking. He finally passed the piece of paper back her way.

_That's because we're meant to be. You know that, right?_

Delenn ran her hand over the paper, biting the inside of her cheek hard. The sharp metallic tang of blood in her mouth. She would not cry - she would not have cared if she and John were alone, but she did not want anyone else to see. How had he managed to put into so few words what she had been unable to fully articulate herself? He understood - completely. She didn't know why she had doubted that he would feel the same truth that she was coming to discover.

She could see he was looking her way out of the corner of his eye. She just nodded. Then she jotted down a few words, passing the paper back over, not needing to see his reply - she knew what it would be. Then she watched the clock, needing the minutes to tick by more quickly, unable to bear the wait.

_Meet me in the auditorium next hour._

xxx

_Time Magazine Cover Story - The Minbari Invasion._

_August 2, 2233._

_Rachelle Kovac, Foreign Affairs._

_Go into any suburban mall, and you'll see the same thing in the windows of the hippest, most up-to-date stores: Minbari-inspired fashions. Sleek lines, bold patterns, jeweled embellishments. On the college campuses, sorority girls are trading in their mini-shorts and tanks for pretty flowing robes. This isn't a political statement, and yet this is how political movements always seem to start - not as a cataclysm, a shock to the system, but the slow, almost imperceptible growth of some paradigm shift. The high school soccer player who picks 11 as his number, who starts practicing using Warrior Caste warm-ups, and who makes a point of eating at the local Minbari restaurant isn't part of any kind of grass-roots acceptance campaign. He's just incorporating something new, something different, into his daily life. And in this way, change begins._

_"We're seeing it all over North America," Livia Burke tells us. Burke, a Locator for the Minbari Immigration Agency's NA division, scouts out these hotspots of pro-Minbari sentiment when she's working with prospective immigrants. "However much the conservative media would like to play the idea that everyone hates the Minbari, that no one wants them here, the truth is that there are a lot of welcoming, understanding people out there. Which has always been the American way, if you look at history, and it's what made this nation such a great place."_

_Burke had planned to go into law, but a semester abroad on Minbar changed all of that. "I immediately fell in love with the culture, the people. I wanted to learn everything I possibly could. Of course, back then, there was no permanent immigration in place, so I came back home to Earth." When the fledgling MIA began to take shape, Burke was one of the first people to join up._

_"Minbari move to Earth for any number of reasons. Some are looking for new economic opportunities. Some are as taken with Earth and Human culture as I was with Minbar. Some wish to try something new. Right now I'm working with a young woman who plans to spend a year attending high school here, because she wants to be a diplomat. What better way to learn about Earth than to live here for a year or two?" _

_Burke's job is a lot more complicated than just picking a city off the map. She wants to make sure that each Minbari immigrant has access to people from home, but doesn't want to overcrowd any neighborhood. Is that to avoid anti-Minbari attitudes? "Of course not. The truth is, assimilation is important. Most immigrants plan to settle permanently. That means they need to learn the local language, the culture. The last thing we want to see are Minbari ghettos growing up."_

_Minbari ghettos are exactly what worry some lawmakers. "The immigration quotas are just set too high," says Manitoban Senator Will Pratchett. "There's an influx of Minbari that just keep flooding in, year after year; they're eroding traditional Earth values, traditions, customs. We don't need our kids using Minbari slang, or waltzing around in robes - it's ridiculous."_

_Ridiculous it may be, but the trend shows no signs of stopping. Sixteen-year-old Madison Nguyen of Dallas, Texas buys everything she can that's even slightly Minbari-influenced. "I just love the way the stuff looks. It's not like anything else. When I go out, I feel so much more confident in my robes - it's not about them being Minbari, it's about how I'm not having my whole body out there for everyone to look at. And I think the way that Minbari look at the universe is something that more people should do themselves. There's a real lack of ego that, for me, is really comforting. I don't worry so much about everything I do. I know that I'm where the universe wants me to be."_

_The conflicts over the Orion 7 colony continue to build, leading some young adults to worry about a trade embargo - or worse, retaliation. "I've had people say mean things to me when I go out," Nguyen admits. "But I'm not going to let that change what I want to do. It's just bullying, you know."_

_Burke agrees. "Anytime something new is introduced, there's a backlash. People are afraid, they feel threatened. But there's no reason to feel threatened. In a lot of ways, Minbari are just like us. We share far more similarities than differences." And watching a group of preteens walk through the mall, drinking blue Centauri Fizzes, half of them in jeans and Religious Caste tunics, it's hard to argue with her._

xxx

Delenn enjoyed eating lunch with Yvonne and Jared. She didn't begrudge John eating with his other friends; she knew it would be unfair for her to monopolize his time. But she couldn't help feel a tiny twinge when she looked across the cafeteria to see him laughing with the red-haired girl. _Lindsay. Her name is Lindsay_. John's head was flung back, and he slapped his hand down next to his tray. Lindsay reached out and covered it with her own, and the twinge turned into a stab of something darker.

_Are you feeling jealousy, Delenn? But why should you feel jealous?_ She trusted John, but still...she just couldn't help the burst of irrational anger she felt towards the red-haired girl. Lindsay.

"Hey, Earth to Delenn!" Yvonne's voice, playful. Delenn turned back, blushing. "I still can't believe you're actually dating John Sheridan."

"Why?"

"Because he's John Sheridan! He's just..." Yvonne didn't finish the thought, and looked John's way herself, a look on her face that surprised Delenn. _Did Yvonne wish that she were John's romantic partner?_ It seemed so. But Yvonne smiled at her, as warm as ever. Delenn ate a small bite of her lunch - the words on the menu today made no sense to her, and the food wasn't very good. She looked at Jared, wanting to ask him about today's calculus homework that she had missed (_kissing John in the auditorium, one of his hands sneaking inside my robes, gently cupping my breast_), but he was looking down at his tray, scowling. Pushing his food around, which was strange; Jared usually ate even faster than John.

"Jared? What is wrong?" Before he could even answer, there was a brief pain on the top of her thigh. Yvonne had pinched her, roughly, and even now was barely shaking her head back and forth.

"What do you mean?" Jared asked, his eyes wide. He looked as though he were hiding something, and Delenn were on the verge of discovering it. Yvonne's fingers on her thigh again - what was going on?

"You're not eating your...oh, what is that color called?" She pointed.

"Pink," Yvonne said, patting her thigh.

"The pink. I thought you liked the pink."

"The applesauce? Yeah. Although did you want it? If you wanted it..." Jared was already bringing his tray to hers, and she let him scrape the pink stuff over, even though she did not care for it much. But it seemed to make him happy, so she swallowed it with a smile. Her mind was churning - there was something happening that she did not understand, and it would be at least until the end of the day before she would have the chance to ask Yvonne.

"Hey, um." Delenn looked up at the new voice - there was a boy standing by their table, and he looked familiar. Was he in one of her classes?

"Yes?"

"I just wanted to let you know that, um." He paused, relentlessly rubbing the back of his neck. There was the ghost of a bruise on his cheek, and Delenn remembered - he was one of George's friends. He had fought with John at the arcade. He had been sitting on the steps when they had left school and George had called her that name again. Delenn felt herself shrink back a little bit, wishing that there was someone sitting on the other side of her, wishing that John were not on the other side of the cafeteria.

"George is my friend," the boy went on, and he wasn't meeting her eyes. "Or, he was my friend. I don't know. I just wanted to let you know I was sorry. I don't have a problem with you. So." Without waiting for any acknowledgement, he turned and walked away. Delenn felt like calling out to him, felt like following so she could thank him for his kind words, but she just sat there, stunned.

The rest of the day passed in a blur, classes demanding her full attention, work that required her to think in English one hundred percent of the time, which wasn't always easy. John was finally returning to his sporting practice, and had again invited Delenn to come observe him. It seemed to be important to him - no doubt he was like any young male, wishing to display his athletic prowess in some kind of mating ritual. Like _llams_ spreading their jeweled tail feathers before the drab females. She made her way down to the field, which was painted with bright white lines. There were a series of steps that acted as seats, and Delenn found an empty space near the top. There were many other students out observing, although some paid less attention to the field than they did to their seemingly incessant chatter with each other. Watching them gossip reminded her that she had forgotten to ask Yvonne what had happened at lunch.

"And then she asked him to drive her back home, even though he'd already bought the tickets and everything. So rude." A boy and a girl sitting a few rows below her, not watching the players on the field at all.

"She's a total bitch, always has been. My mom actually asked me once why I never asked Lindsay out. Like I want to be eaten alive, Jesus Christ." Then they clammed up, glancing to the side. Delenn followed their eyes, and there was Lindsay herself, walking her way. Sitting down beside her, a wide smile that didn't reach her eyes.

Delenn had noticed that Lindsay had looked different today, when she'd seen her in history and then again at lunch, but hadn't been able to figure out why until now. Sitting right next to the Human, she saw that more of her upper body was covered than usual. She was wearing an almost exact replica of a Worker Caste tunic. She wondered what the Human girl would think if she knew that it made her look like a low-level industrial worker, the kind who kept the sewers clean.

"Delenn, hi!" Her voice was brittle, false. Delenn did not wish to speak with her, but it would be entirely too rude to not answer. So she bowed her head as shallowly as was permissible, glancing down to the field. John was running, and their eyes met - he waved with a sunny smile. "You're here watching Johnny?"

"Yes. He asked me to observe. Although I do not know the rules of this sport." Lindsay just looked at her appraisingly, and Delenn understood what the girl below had meant when she'd expressed no desire to be eaten alive; the Human did look predatory. Mean.

"So Johnny's pretty popular. Do you know what that word means?" Lindsay asked in a patronizing tone.

"It means that he is well-liked."

"Yeah. Or, at least, he was. But ever since he started going with you, he's just not as popular as he used to be."

"Is that so? I have noticed no difference."

"It would be kind of hard for you to, since you didn't know him before you came here, obviously." Delenn felt a wave of antipathy rise up; this Human girl was simply unlikable, and she could not believe that her physical charms were enough to overcome the distaste she clearly had to inspire in others. "I just thought you should know. That's all. I mean, you like Johnny, right?"

"He is my friend."

"Well, you wouldn't want him to be unpopular, would you? You wouldn't want to be responsible for his friends not liking him, would you?" Lindsay was watching the field, and to an outside observer would not seem to be paying attention to Delenn at all.

"If someone chooses to stop liking him because of with whom he chooses to associate, I cannot believe they were truly his friend to begin with." Lindsay turned back to her then, and whatever false charm she'd worn before joining her was gone. Her face was flat, her green eyes cold.

"You're going to ruin his life. Normal people don't go out with Minbari. That's just the way it is. He has plans. He's going to go to the Academy, he's going to be a General some day. That's not going to happen if he's got a Minbari girlfriend. If you do actually like him, you'll break up with him. Or you'll fuck him and get it over with, so he can get you out of his system and move on."

Delenn didn't see the field, certainly didn't see the two students in front of her who had turned around to openly watch and listen. She felt herself pick up her bag and stand as though someone else were operating her body from afar. She felt cold, her tongue too thick to speak. She hurried to the side of the steps, made her way down them blindly, only hoping she could get away and back to the school, to the female washroom, to a quiet stall locked up tight, before the tears overwhelmed her.

xxx

_Hey. Hey, can I ask you something? Over here - I don't want anyone else to hear. Look, you wouldn't happen to have any bone porn, would you? Human-Minbari or Minbari-Minbari, doesn't matter. _

_Shit. This is the third fucking place I've been to. There's gotta be some out there. I know it'll never get put up on the adult channels. But you haven't heard of any crystals getting traded around?_

_I'm willing to pay. How much you want? Three hundred! Are you out of your fucking mind? _

_Fine, three hundred. Who's the bone? Hot damn, I was hoping for a Minbari chick. I heard their nipples are blue? Right, right, I'll see soon enough. Fuck, man, I'm getting hard just thinking about it. I owe you one. You ever get anything else in, you let me know. _

xxx

The first time John looked up, Lindsay had just been sitting down next to Delenn, and something had lurched in his stomach, like he was afraid. He couldn't even figure what he was afraid of. Lindsay was just a girl, a sweet girl, and she'd been wearing a Minbari shirt today - maybe she was wanting to get to know Delenn better. He wouldn't have figured the two of them becoming friends, but the idea was kind of cool.

The next time he looked up, Delenn was gone, and Lindsay was sitting by herself, watching him closely. She waved with a wide grin, and John waved back. But he was worried now, and the simple joy he'd felt being back on the field vanished like it had never been there, and the drills and set plays went on forever. All he could think about was why Delenn had left, knowing that he was going to take her back home; the more he thought, the worse and worse his conclusions became.

His mobile was back in the locker room, and as soon as Coach whistled that practice was over, he ran back as hard as he could, wanting to get there first. Bad idea - he was winded by the time he got back, and he could hardly speak when Judith answered the phone.

"John, what is it?"

"Delenn...is Delenn there?"

"Yes, she called and asked me to come pick her up. Said she had a headache. Is everything okay?"

"Yeah, just wanted to make sure she was home. I'll see you in a bit." John hung up as the other players started coming in, and he showered and dressed as quickly as he possibly could. Then he was speeding down the streets, and God help the cop that pulled him over. Thankfully none were lurking about, and he dumped his car in front of Delenn's house, ran up to ring the bell, shifting his weight from side to side anxiously.

"Come in, John." Judith closed the door behind him, then grabbed his arm before he could head downstairs. "Did you two have a fight?"

"No, no. I think...I think someone said something to her." Judith nodded, as though she'd been expecting his answer. She let him go, and John went down to Delenn's room. It was dark when he opened the door, and he crept in quietly. She was on her bed, and he carefully lowered himself beside her. She was on her back, and didn't look his way; he could see fresh tear tracks on her face.

"Delenn?" Her chin shook, and she brought her hands up, covering her eyes. "What did Lindsay say to you?" She shook her head roughly from side to side, and he heard a tiny sob escape. How could seeing her cry cause him physical pain? He reached for her, pulled her up to his chest, ignored the way she put a hand out to stop him. "It's okay, sweetheart. It's okay."

Then she was clutching at him, grabbing his shirt. She kissed his face, lips landing on his mouth and cheek in wet, indiscriminate smacks. "I love you," she gasped out between sobs, and the worry that had consumed him ever since he'd seen her empty seat vanished under a rising wave of elation. But she pushed herself back, wiping off her face, and would not allow him to follow her.

"Delenn?"

"I don't want to ruin your life." He could hardly understand her, her accent was so thick, and he blinked in confusion a few times, sure he had heard her wrong.

"You're not going to ruin my life. What are you talking about?"

"Lindsay said that people would not like you because you had chosen me as a romantic partner. She said that your future plans would not allow for a Minbari consort." There was rage at her words. John carefully put the rage in a box and set it aside; he would deal with Lindsay later. Now he reached out and gently ran his hand over Delenn's cheek, up and over her bone crest. Stroked the top edge.

"I love you," he said, and kept his eyes locked on hers. Made sure the words sank in, and then he moved closer to her, careful not to slide down the bed. He covered her body with his, gathered up everything he felt for her and put it into a kiss.

"But John..." she said, pulling away and shaking her head.

"No. I love you. That's all that counts." He kissed her again, hard, and this time he didn't let her go. She grabbed his hand and dragged it to her breast, and he gave it a light squeeze before he slid his hand under her back; he didn't know what else Lindsay had said to her, but there was absolutely no way he was going to pressure her to put out, not now, not even remotely. He kissed down to her ear. "I love you," he whispered again, and she drew in a ragged breath, her arms finally coming up around his waist, holding him tight.

They didn't hear Judith creep down the stairs to check on them, didn't hear her quietly pull the door shut.

xxx

_16 September 2233. 0825 EST. Reports of explosion at White House. Emergency response underway. No information on injuries._

_UPDATE: 0845 EST. A bomb was detonated inside the White House, location unknown. Twelve casualties reported so far._

_UPDATE: 0930 EST. North American Lieutenant Governor Jennings calls White House bombing a terrorist attack. NA Governor Harrison's whereabouts still unknown at this time. Fifteen additional casualties bring total number up to twenty-seven._

_UPDATE: 1015 EST. Security Designation Alpha now in effect. The District has been quarantined. All air traffic in and out has been grounded._

_UPDATE: 1045 EST. Rumors that Governor Harrison is among dead. No confirmation at this time. Thirty-eight confirmed casualties._

_UPDATE: 1115 EST. Governor Harrison confirmed to be among victims of White House bombing._

xxx

Fifth hour. Chemistry. Twenty more minutes to lunch; John was starving. They were taking notes on Chapter Three, which was about covalent bonds, and John had no idea what that meant. He kept reading the same paragraph over and over again. He'd get to the bottom and realize he didn't have a clue what he'd just read, his eyes skipping over the words without actually looking at them.

Fuck it. He let his mind drift back to the night before, making out with Delenn on her bed for two solid hours. A few times he came up for air and it was enough to click his brain back on, and he wondered why neither Judith nor Livia came for them, called them up for dinner; then he figured that Judith knew Delenn had been pretty upset, and decided to leave them alone. He didn't complain. Delenn slowly became less frantic, less upset, melted into their kisses.

She unsnapped her outer robe, draped it to either side of her body. "You don't have to. You don't have to," he said, but she just pulled him back down to her, settling his groin securely between her legs. He was hard as a rock, and she was so perfect and soft, and he couldn't help it. He tried to pull back, but her hands were insistent, pressed against the small of his back (_God, she was strong_), holding him down. He ended up humping her, unable to control himself, grunting into her neck. He needed her so much, and when he came he wasn't sure for a second whether he'd been inside her or not.

"Shit, shit, shit." Came right in his jeans, for Christ's sake. Delenn shushed him, kissing the side of his face, still not letting him go. So he gave up. He was going to have awful, crusty boxers, but it wouldn't be the first time.

"You're mine," she whispered, and there was just a hint of a question in it. He nodded, found her lips again.

"All yours. Completely."

Then of course they'd been summoned to dinner. Judith really did have expert timing. He'd expected to feel awkward then, awkward the next morning picking her up, but she acted like everything was perfectly natural, like dumb teenage Human boys humped her all the time. He'd tried one more time to apologize in the car, but she would have none of it, not even having the decency to let him feel embarrassed. He figured that somehow she'd known that he'd needed it, needed to be that much closer to her.

"John, eyes on your lectern." Ms. King was glaring at him, and he realized he'd just been staring off into space. So he started reading about covalent bonds again, and was finally getting somewhere when the intercom clicked on with a whine of feedback.

"Attention." Sumalong's voice, and it sounded really weird. "I have an announcement to make." Everyone was listening, looking around the room at each other. There was something in the air, some kind of tension, like an electrical charge. John thought that maybe Sumalong had turned the intercom back off, but no, he could hear breathing, what sounded like crying in the background. "There has been a bombing at the White House." Gasps, a little scream from the back of the room. "Governor Harrison is dead." Another few seconds of breathing, and then the intercom clicked back off.

Silence. Absolute silence. Then Cora Michalski started sobbing, big loud sobs, and everyone was yelling and talking and shouting all at once. "Turn on ISN!" in a chorus, and John realized that he was shouting it, too. Ms. King lowered the vid screen, clicked it on. Images filled the screen, and John felt the bottom of his stomach drop out. Half the White House was gone, nothing but dark wreckage, ugly smoke, flames that firefighters were still trying to put out. The reporter on screen was trying to stay calm, but kept having to take big, deep breaths.

"We don't know, we still don't know. It's absolute chaos here." They cut back to the anchors in the studio, and John had never seen them look like this - utterly lost, confused. That more than the shots of the White House made it clear to him that this was real, that this had actually happened. Someone had called in, talking about how tight security at the White House was. Then the female anchor put her fingers up to her ear, listening.

"I'm going to have to interrupt you, Dan. We're receiving word from the FBI. They have confirmed that the bombing was a terrorist attack. A communication was sent to the Post just prior to the bombing. The bomber was a Minbari, and wanted to send the following message."

John didn't hear the message. He threw himself out of his desk, ran to the door, was out into the hallway as the classroom erupted into angry screams behind him. Down the hallway, running. _What did Delenn have fifth hour? Fuck, fuck_. Half the classrooms he passed were in an uproar, and he heard one of them empty out into the hallway on the floor below. Psychology, Dr. Sloane. Just up ahead. John flung the door open, and what he saw imprinted itself on his brain; he'd never forget this, not as long as he lived.

Delenn in the corner, blood dripping from a cut on the top of her head. Her face white as chalk, hands clasped in front of her. Students screaming at her, things flying through the air. Chess Geek in front of her, a human shield; someone grabbed him, tugged him aside, and John knew the mob would kill her if they got the chance.

"_Nobody fucking move!_"he bellowed. And somehow, for God knows what reason, everyone stopped and turned to look at him. John felt something enter him, some kind of force; the top of his head felt hot, and he felt strong enough to bend steel with his bare hands. "Everyone listen." Voice quiet now, and he took in the faces turned his way, waiting. He could see it in their eyes: _John will tell us what to do. We'll do what John says._ "Whoever the stupid fuck was that just bombed the White House? He was crazy. He was a cowardly piece of shit. But that had nothing to do with him being Minbari. He could have been Centauri, Narn, Human. This girl in the corner? She's not responsible for what happened, no more than I'm responsible, or any of you are responsible. Delenn's the nicest, kindest, most fucking wonderful person I know, and I swear to God, anyone so much as looks at her funny, and you'll have me to deal with. I promise you, I will hunt you down and I will kill you. Is that clear? Is that one hundred percent fucking clear?" Nods. Wide, innocent eyes. John realized that there was a hum in the air, and he turned to see Dr. Sloane beside him, by the com panel on the wall. He had switched the intercom on. John listened - he couldn't hear shouting from any of the other classrooms, just dead silence all around.

He looked at Delenn, and her eyes were filled with tears. These were good tears, though. He turned to the com panel, spoke directly into it, knowing that his words were being heard by everyone in the school.

"We've got two options here. We can act like a bunch of reactionary assholes, or we can set an example for others. I don't want a war with Minbar. None of us should want a war with Minbar. But if we call out for blood, if we howl for vengeance, all we're doing is heading down that road. Maybe we're just a bunch of high school students, maybe no one important will listen to us - but we have a voice. And I for one intend to use it. So who's with me? Who else is going to stand up and say enough with this bigotry, enough with this blind leap to judgment? Who else is tired of seeing nothing but hate on the news, hate for anyone who's different? I'm going to walk out to the football field right now, and if you're with me, if you're ready to do something about it, if you're willing to be a positive force for change, then come with me. Just get up and walk out. That's all you have to do. We'll figure the rest out later."

Delenn was at his side. He took her hand, and they walked out into the hallway. Silence, still that heavy silence. They walked down the stairs. A few dozen students outside the classrooms, watching. McCarty waiting at the front doors. They left, walked out, through the parking lot, down to the field. John could hear them behind him, but he didn't turn, didn't look to see how many. The field was dazzling in the sunlight, all crisp green grass and bright white lines. He walked to the center, right on the fifty yard line, and then he turned to see who had followed.

There was a stream of students from the field all the way back to the school, still pouring out. At least three hundred, maybe more. Half the student body, and more kept coming. There was Chess Geek, and John grabbed him, hugged him. Yvonne ran up, arms around Delenn, sobbing into her shoulder. Mrs. Shrew pushing her way up to him, shaking his hand up and down so hard he was afraid she'd pull his arm out of the socket. Sumalong, still looking dazed, sitting down hard on a bleacher. People were crying, in clumps, hugging each other.

Delenn came back to him, her arms around his waist. "You saved me," she said, and he could barely hear her. Just held her close. He didn't know what was going to happen next. They'd figure it out.


	6. Promises

Promises

The next few hours passed in a blur. People kept coming up and talking to him, asking him questions, and John didn't realize until halfway through the third interview that the students and teachers had been replaced by local news reporters. He actually saw the cameras, the microphones, the super-hot lady reporter who always wore too-tight suits, except today she was still in jeans and a t-shirt. He saw all of it, really saw it, as he was mid-answer, and for a second he thought he'd somehow fallen asleep, and this was all a dream.

"I just think it's idiotic to blame every Minbari for one Minbari's actions. That would be like if, I don't know, if I got in a fight with someone and Coach K benched the entire football team." Now that he knew that it wasn't just whoever was around him listening, that it might be thousands and thousands of people (_maybe more?_) listening, he suddenly felt dumb. Like his brain wouldn't work. Then someone's hand slipped into his - Delenn. He looked down at her, seeing the white bandage on her forehead, incongruous considering her smile, the warmth in her eyes.

"The other students tell me that this is your girlfriend?" the reporter asked. Maria something. He'd never really paid attention to her name or what she was reporting when he watched her on the news; at least, that had been the case before school started. After that, after Delenn, she just seemed sort of tawdry, garish. Too much make-up, clothes too revealing. "John?"

He'd just been smiling at Delenn, thinking about how beautiful she was. Now he turned back to Maria, pulling Delenn close to his side. "Yes, this is my girlfriend, Delenn."

"It appears that you were injured, Delenn. Did that happen after the White House bomber was revealed to be a Minbari?"

John was sucking in a breath to answer, to make the point that a lot of people were going to be thinking with their guts and not their heads in the next few days, that lashing out was not going to solve any problems; just a lot of really profound, awesome wisdom. Delenn beat him to the punch. "There was some chaos when everyone left the building to come down here, to the field," she said, looking impossibly sweet and demure. As though she were a little embarrassed. "Betty Wu ended up breaking her ankle running down the stairs!" Was it possible to love someone for being a really good liar? What made her such a great liar was that she hadn't even lied at all - Betty had actually broken her ankle, no less. But everyone listening would assume that Delenn had just bumped her head or something. They wouldn't know that after the ISN reporter announced that a Minbari had assassinated Governor Harrison, Edgar Jarnevic had picked up the first thing at hand - the coffee mug on Louise Simpson's desk next to his - and flung it at Delenn's head.

They'd been down on the field for about half an hour - Nurse Bournaeu cleaning up the wound, which had been relatively minor for all that it had bled like a son of a bitch, though Delenn was going to have a hell of a bruise - when Edgar had come over, shaking and crying, incoherent. All he could get out was _sorry_, over and over, and Delenn just stood and pulled him down into a hug, rubbing his back, saying something in Adronato. Everyone stopped and watched, and it was really that, seeing Delenn forgive Edgar so easily, without a hint of anger, that snapped the strange fugue they'd all been stuck in. There had been a lot of people - probably more than half - who had come down to the field just because everyone else had, and they'd been clumped up in groups, quiet in a kind of ominous way, glancing around at everyone else. But after Delenn had hugged Edgar, smiled at him as he wiped away his tears and blew his nose, everyone had just come together, for real this time. People who had never spoken to Delenn, never even looked at her, were coming up to introduce themselves, shaking her hand, giving her big hugs. After a while it had overwhelmed her, and she started crying herself, and _boy_, were there hugs then. John didn't remember saying _let's all go down to the football field and hug each other_ over the intercom, but apparently that's what everyone had heard. It was like a '10s Psi Corps recruiting vid or something.

"How did you find yourself in love with a Minbari, John?" He looked up - staring at Delenn again, like he was brain damaged - and Maria Something was waiting patiently, a slightly patronizing smile on her face. Something about the way she'd phrased the question irritated him, like he was supposed to admit that it had been really hard to let himself have feelings for a Minbari, but rather than get angry he decided to take Delenn's lead.

"It happened before I even knew that it had happened. Her first day, she was eating lunch by herself - it always happens to new kids - and I sat with her. We talked, and then...that was that. It was like we'd known each other for years after one day. Maybe some people take a long time to figure things out, but for me, it didn't take me very long at all to know that I'd met the person I was going to spend the rest of my life with." He glanced back down at Delenn, who was smiling up at him with shiny eyes, and for half a second the wild thought of dropping to one knee occurred to him. The very next thing he thought of was that his mom would absolutely kill him dead. A bit of a laugh at that, and then Delenn did her little wrinkled nose thing, and then they were giggling at each other.

He remembered to turn back to Maria Something on his own this time. She was staring at the two of them like they'd grown extra heads. "And...and you, Delenn?" she asked, doing her best to recover. "Has it been difficult, living as a Minbari foreign exchange student here on Earth?"

"The universe puts us in places where we can learn," Delenn said, and John found himself listening closely. He didn't actually know what she was going to say next. "I have learned that Earth is a beautiful planet. I have learned that Humans are welcoming, generous, and kind. I have learned more in the last two weeks than I did in the previous two years. No, Ms. Sanchez, it has not been difficult at all."

"I like the way you say 'universe,'" he blurted out, and Delenn gave him her own _why do you have an extra head_ look. He grinned at her. "You-knee-verse. It's cute."

"That is the way the word should be said."

"That's not how I say it."

"It is not my fault that you do not properly pronounce your vowels."

"You-knee-verse."

"Roses." He laughed at that, and if someone had told him a few hours ago that he'd ever laugh again, he would have called them crazy. Back to Maria Something, and she was actually smiling at them now. Not a fake reporter smile, but a real, genuine smile. It was a little crooked, and she looked a hundred times prettier in regular clothes, with her crooked smile, than she ever did on the news.

"John, Delenn, thank you. I wish you all the best."

xxx

Principal Sumalong had announced half an hour ago that school was canceled for the next two days at least, and then had asked John what would happen next. Delenn watched John think, watched him look around as though someone else would answer for him. And then there was that look she had seen that very first day, in the arcade; that almost-there image of the man he was becoming. Did John realize what it meant that the principal, the chief educator, was asking for his opinion on what to do? Did anyone else realize?

"I think everyone's pretty tired, probably wants to go home and see their parents. Why don't we meet back here on the field at noon tomorrow? Everyone pack a lunch, we'll set it up like a picnic, and we can just sit and talk? I'm sure everyone has an idea or two." Delenn found herself nodding - that was a good plan. Make everyone else feel involved, a part of whatever this was going to be. A grass-roots movement, like the article for which Livia had been interviewed had mentioned. Change began with youth.

Everyone agreed, and then in a matter of minutes the field emptied, and John was driving her home. It was wonderful to finally be alone with him; at any given moment someone had been watching them, although for the first time most of those watching had done so with approval, not scorn.

"How's your head?" he asked, squeezing her hand.

"Fine, fine. Will you stay for dinner?"

"Yeah, I already told my mom I was going to. Dad's apparently up to his neck, isn't even going to come home tonight."

"The same is no doubt true for Livia. They will have much work to do in the weeks to come, even more so than usual." They drove the rest of the way in silence, and as Delenn unlocked the front door to enter she realized how tired she was, how nice it would be to just grab a quick bite and then sit with John, just let him hold her.

Judith was running through the house, clothes trailing behind her in colorful streams, cursing under her breath. "Judith?" She didn't stop to look at Delenn, just shoved the clothes into a suitcase open on the couch.

"Delenn, pack some robes, toiletries. We're staying at a hotel tonight."

John grabbed Judith the next time she passed them, made her stop and look at him. "What's going on?"

Judith sighed, looked back and forth between them, and Delenn could see her think and decide whether or not she was going to tell the truth. Finally: "Livia called five minutes ago. Someone sent in a threat to the MIA, that they were going to kill every Minbari in town. The police think it's just a prank, but I don't feel like risking it." Someone was going to come to the house and kill her. Because of what had happened today. Delenn thought that she should feel afraid, but she didn't feel much of anything at all.

"You're not staying at a hotel," John said. "You're staying at my house. I'll call my mom, help Delenn pack. We'll be ready in five." The almost-there image wasn't almost anymore; he looked older, braver, stronger. She was glad that he led her downstairs, because she suddenly didn't remember where anything was anymore. "Delenn? Pack some clothes." She nodded, pulled out the first robes she saw, feeling like she had yesterday - that someone else was operating her body, and she was just watching it happen. She could distantly hear John speaking. Was he speaking to her? No, his mobile was out. He saw her looking at him, held the phone down.

"What is a prank?"

He looked at her with a strange expression. Back to his phone. "Yeah, we'll be right over, Mom. Okay." He put his mobile back into his pocket, then walked over to her, slowly. Put his hands on her shoulders. Delenn realized that he was very tall.

"Delenn. You need to finish packing."

"Judith said someone was going to kill me for a prank. What does that mean?" Maybe John didn't know the word either, because he just looked at her, and his face was very grim. Very serious. She had decided to look up the word on her lectern when he answered.

"A prank is a joke."

"Someone will kill me to make fun?"

He looked like he was in pain. Had someone thrown something at him as well? "No. The police think that whoever called in the threat doesn't mean to actually do anything. They just...they were just being stupid. They just wanted to scare people." She didn't understand. Judith said that someone was going to kill every Minbari in town. That did not sound like a joke. Why would someone promise to do such a thing and not follow through? Was that meant to be humorous? She would think it to be another example of the things Humans found funny that were not at all, but neither Judith nor John were laughing. Surely if it were just a joke, a prank, they would not look so serious, so scared? Perhaps they were only trying to protect her by concealing the truth - it was no prank. Someone out there, maybe even someone she knew, was going to kill her.

John folded her robes and placed them in her suitcase. She followed him into her washroom, and he grabbed everything out of the drawers. There wasn't much. He even took her timekeeper from the counter, though she had seen several in his house. She didn't say anything, though. Then he was zipping up the suitcase, heading for the stairs. He had missed something. Delenn looked around, trying to figure out what it was.

"Delenn? We need to go." She went to the shelf over her bed, pulled down the blue bear he had given her at the arcade. Hard, shiny eyes. They looked wet under the lights, like the bear was crying. Delenn hugged the blue bear to her chest. John's arm came around her shoulders, his lips brushed against her cheek. She let him lead her up the stairs.

They drove to John's house, Judith following in her own car. Inside, Miranda and Lizzie hugged them, saying things that Delenn didn't understand; she decided she didn't want to think in English for awhile. It was easy to let the words become nonsense, just sounds. Talk, talk, talk. All Humans did was talk. Delenn didn't feel like listening to any of it. There was a meal on the table. It tasted like nothing, nothing at all, and she chewed and ate mechanically. Nonsense sounds. Someone touched her shoulder, her arm. She took another bite, like chewing packing foam.

There was something wet on her face. She reached up to touch it. Her chest hurt. She couldn't breathe. There was an awful sound in the air, a desperate sound, something tearing and grating. Pressure under her knees, on her back, and then she was moving, a touch of wind on her face.

Delenn realized that she was crying, crying so hard she couldn't draw in her next breath. John had her cradled in his lap, his arms snug around her, rocking her back and forth. They weren't in the dining room - he had picked her up and carried her to the couch in the living room.

"I can't breathe. I can't breathe," she gasped out. His hand rubbed up and down her back, and he was crooning something into her ear. Someone was placing something cool and wet on the top of her head. _"You are safe, Delenn, and everything will be all right. You are safe." _Judith's voice, and hearing her own language made Delenn feel the truth in the words. Air back in her lungs, the pain in her chest diminishing. John's chest solid under her head, and she realized she had her arms wrapped tightly around him. She loosened her grasp, slid one hand up to rest over his heartbeat. Normally she found the odor of Human perspiration to be overpowering, quite unpleasant, but John smelled wonderful right now - strong, masculine. She turned her head to press her nose against him, breathe him in.

Coming back to herself. The fog lifted; Delenn remembered early mornings before temple, watching the sun rise above the mountains, the ribbons of mist at their feet white and thick at first, then gracefully melting away. Her father would put her on his shoulders, so that she could see. Delenn missed him.

She gingerly lifted her face away from John's chest, looked around. Miranda and Lizzie on one side of John, Judith on the other. "I'm sorry," she whispered, and in unison they were all shaking their heads, saying _no, no_. Still, she felt foolish, ridiculous. Even now she could not tell why she had been crying. She was so tired, and her head ached dreadfully. She wanted to go home, not to Judith's house but to her own home, and lie down on her own bed, the window open a crack to let in a draft of cool air, and sleep for days; she wanted to wake to the sound of the _rakhas_ calling out their morning songs to each other as they flew up and down the valley; she wanted to go to temple, let the chants enfold her, the incense envelope her.

Crying again. _"I want to go home." _Whispers and murmurs that she couldn't make out. John was lifting her again, carrying her up the stairs. Judith was there to unhook her robe, help her take off her shoes, her stockings. She was laid down on John's flat, soft bed, and then he was crawling in behind her. She turned to burrow into his arms. Miranda was spreading the colorful patchwork blanket over them both, pressing her lips gently against Delenn's temple. Darkness. Sleep claimed her.

xxx

John watched Delenn wake up, slowly, in stages. At the end, when he could tell she was awake but before she opened her eyes, she reached a hand out until she found him, and rested it on his chest. He remembered a classic vid he'd watched with Granddad years ago. A bunch of bank robbers were planning a huge heist. They planned, they prepared. One of them had got a job at the bank, and the bank manager had shown her around, finally taking her down to the vault. Stacks of money, actual money, all along the walls. Locked boxes that held jewelry. After the bank robber had finished looking around, the manager led her back out, and swung the enormous, heavy metal door shut. There was a loud _whump_ of a noise, and then the manager spun a dial, a round spoke of metal like a ship's wheel. That was the lock. Now the vault was impenetrable, completely sealed. As Delenn slid her hand up to rest over his heart, as she made sure he was there beside her before she even opened her eyes, John thought about that spinning lock; the vault was sealed.

Now she opened her eyes, and John didn't like what he saw in them: shame, regret, anxiety. He covered her hand with his own. "Hey."

"Did it happen?" she asked, a vertical line dividing her forehead. A line he had never seen before.

"Did what happen?"

"Who died? Who was killed in the night?" John rolled over, grabbed her and hugged her close. She was stiff in his arms, not yielding at all, and finally pushed herself back. Her eyes bored into his. "Tell me, John."

"No one. Delenn, no one died. No one was killed. It was just a prank." She didn't believe him at first, but he just kept nodding, running his fingers along her cheek, and finally she let him pull her close again.

"I don't understand," she whispered.

"Humans can be assholes."

Delenn worked herself up on an elbow, peering down at him with a look on her face he'd seen on plenty of teacher's faces over the years. "How do your people come up with such vile expressions?"

"Because Humans can be assholes." She rolled her eyes at him, but it had worked; the corners of her lips curved up just the tiniest bit, and she leaned down to give him a soft, gentle good morning kiss. John decided that this was how he wanted to wake up every morning from now on. Although maybe without the death threats and terrorist attacks.

The meeting was in a couple hours, and even though he was hoping that other students would show up with some good ideas, John couldn't help but feel like everyone would expect him to come up with some kind of miracle. Something that would make everything okay. He would talk for a couple minutes, and all of a sudden Minbar and Earth would get along, the colonies on Orion 7 would live side by side in peace, et cetera, et cetera. It was ridiculous. There was nothing he could do; he had only wanted to keep Delenn safe yesterday, when everyone was out for blood. Now that that was done, he really didn't think there was anything else for him to do.

John thought it was infinitely adorable the way she blushed at getting dressed in front of him, and decided to be a gentleman and turn his back. He was fastening up his jeans when she came up behind him, her arms around his waist, kissing him between his shoulder blades.

"I love you," she said, turning her head to rest it against his back. Even though she'd said it before, and even though it wasn't exactly a surprise, he still found tears pricking his eyes.

"Me, too." John turned slowly, not wanting her to back away, and kissed the top of her head. Hugged her close, just concentrating on the feel of her in his arms. That was how Lizzie found them a few minutes later, flinging the door open and then screwing up her nose.

"Did you forget how to knock?" he asked with an eye roll, and she threw him an even better one back. "Remind me to send you the link on your lectern - I think the dictionary entry has a tutorial."

"Mom made breakfast. Bacon and eggs. If you two can quit slobbering all over each other." With that, Lizzie skipped out. Delenn looked up at him curiously.

"But we were not even kissing."

"Congratulations. You now have a little sister. The more shit they give you, the more they love you." Delenn smiled at that, burying her face in his shirt, and he remembered her saying that she'd always wanted a sibling. "You can tell all your Minbari friends about your great big Human family."

"Is that what you are?" she whispered.

"Oh, yeah. You're stuck with us now." She laughed a tiny, quiet laugh at that, but he heard a hitch in the middle. So he hugged her nice and tight again, thinking about how he'd prefer to just blow off the meeting and snuggle with her all day. A crazy image popped into his head - the way he'd tug his dresser over to the foot of his bed and sling a blanket from his headboard to the top of it to make a tent when he was a kid. That's what he wanted now; a cozy, warm place to hide with Delenn, just the two of them, the rest of the world disappearing.

But not today. He roused himself. "Bacon and eggs, Delenn. Come on." He took her hand, tugged her out the door.

"I do not know what bacon is."

"Oh, Delenn. Bacon is what the gods eat." And as they started down the stairs, the wonderful, wonderful aroma of delicious, delicious bacon surrounded him. He looked down to grin at her, hoping to see her sniffing the air, maybe with little bacon slices gleaming in her eyes, but she had her nose wrinkled up, and not in the cute laughing way.

Not only had Mom made bacon and eggs, she'd made hashbrown casserole and pasta salad and chocolate chip cookies for them to take to the picnic today. John went to the casserole to snag a scoop and she slapped him on the back of the head.

"Ow, Mom! Jesus!"

"That's for later. Your plates are in the micro." John pulled them out - still hot. He sat down with Delenn, and she took her fork and gave the bacon a tentative poke.

"You don't have to eat this. I can make you something else."

"No, no. I am honored to eat your sacred food. Do you have a ritual that goes along with it? Should I offer the bacon to one of your gods?"

"What?"

"You said that your gods ate this bacon. Or did you mean that in a mythic sense?"

God, he loved her. He picked up a slice and waved it in front of her face. "Open your mouth." She obeyed, took a nibble. "Now tell me that isn't the best thing you've ever had in there." There was a warm, amused look in her eyes, but she didn't actually answer him. She found the salt and pepper and went to town, and even his mom stopped to watch. Delenn noticed the scrutiny.

"I hope I do not offend you by preferring extra seasoning," she said, looking worried.

"I'm offended," Lizzie shot back, shoveling eggs into her mouth. "I'm horribly offended."

"Lizzie!" Mom said under her breath, glaring. But Delenn was grinning, unable to keep the smile off her face even as she ate her first perfect little bite of eggs. John kicked Lizzie under the table and dropped her a wink.

xxx

"Hometown hero and teen activist Johnny Sheridan! Unable to eat cookies without getting chocolate all over his face!" McCarty dropped down on the blanket next to Delenn, almost but not quite knocking her over.

"I do not," John groused, rubbing at his face. "Do I?" he asked Delenn, who solemnly nodded her head up and down and pointed at the corner of her own mouth. Mom had told him to pack some napkins and he'd ignored her. He rubbed and rubbed, waiting for Delenn to tell him he'd got it.

"What's the point of having a girlfriend if you can't ask her to lick the chocolate off your face?" McCarty leered at Delenn, and he was glad that she apparently understood that this meant that McCarty liked her now; she smiled, ducked her head down. Still, he couldn't allow this to become a precedent. John lunged over to smack him, which meant he was the one who ended up knocking Delenn over. She laughed, and stayed on her back, looking up at the clouds. John joined her.

"The skies on Minbar never get this blue."

"Do you ever figure out what the clouds look like?" he asked.

"What do you mean?"

"That one right there. It looks like a bunny."

"I do not know what a bunny is. It looks like two mountains to me."

McCarty flopped down on his back, too. "Boobs. I just see boobs."

"Jesus Christ."

"Nick," Delenn said, mock stern. "Please roll over." McCarty rolled over but not in the direction she intended; he snuggled up against her, and she giggled. John turned over to kiss her, and she poked her tongue out to clean up the corner of his mouth.

"Hey, you guys ever need an extra hand..." This time Delenn smacked McCarty, half-heartedly, clearly never seeing that kind of thing as affectionate before.

"I thought we were here to figure out a plan." Once that voice alone might have been enough to give him some wood, but now it just made him cringe. He leaned up on his elbows to see Lindsay, Amanda and Deirdre standing at the foot of the blanket, all in Minbari robes. Tailored robes; they were way too tight, and exposed way too much cleavage. Delenn sat completely up, tugging on her own robes, and John rested his head against her side, smiling up at the girls, and if he threw in a little extra smirk, then so be it. He could tell that he still had a bit of pull with Amanda - she blushed, looked down at her feet - but Lindsay's face was cold.

"Figured we'd let everyone eat first," he said, insouciant. He had a theory that Lindsay decided that she wanted him once he started going with Delenn - it probably irked her that a handsome guy like him picked a Minbari girl instead of her. He put an arm around Delenn's waist, feeling petty and wanting to rub it in.

Lindsay just rolled her pretty eyes, whispering something to Deirdre. They laughed mean little laughs and waltzed off. Amanda looked a tiny bit chagrined, and hesitated, but ended up following the others after a moment.

"How come they're wearing your clothes?" McCarty asked, still on his back.

"They're not," Delenn said, cleaning up the remnants of their lunch, and John was surprised by how upset she seemed. Then he remembered what Lindsay had said to her the last time they'd met, and decided that she wasn't mad enough. "They are poor facsimiles, styled in such a way as to expose far too much skin. It is quite inappropriate. Though she is right, John. It is time for us to begin."

He'd been avoiding that part of it. He'd been kind of hoping someone else would get this show on the road, but everyone else seemed happy to just sit in the sun, and talk, and eat. John sighed, still feeling as lost as he had this morning. Stood up, cleared his throat, and spoke, nice and loud; all that singing in class was paying off - it was easy to pitch his voice clearly enough for everyone to hear.

"Hey, you cretins! Get your shit cleaned up and move here to the middle of the field so we can all hear each other!" If a teacher had made a similar announcement, most everyone would have ignored him or her, would have kept talking. It would have taken two or three extra reminders to get the kids moving. But everyone obeyed almost immediately, happily. It was kind of creeping him out.

xxx

An hour later, and they had come up with nothing. John dutifully wrote down each suggestion, but the only thing he had circled was _write letters to representatives_. Delenn found herself growing frustrated, though she tried to tell herself that it was good enough that so many had come together in the first place.

"We always raise a lot of money with the bake sales, especially if the volleyball team is in uniform," Lindsay was saying. She had undone the first fasten on her pretend robes, and was sitting in such a way as to thrust her breasts outward. Delenn wasn't sure what the Human's objective was - did she suppose John would end their relationship over a larger set of mammaries? Delenn watched John write _bake sale_ next to _car wash_ and _raffle_.

"Raising money is all well and good," Delenn said, not planning to address the Human at all, but the words were out before she could even think about it. "The specific manner is irrelevant. What would we do with the money once we had raised it? What is the goal?" Murmurs at that, as the clusters of students all around thought out loud.

"I'd have guessed that you'd be more positive, Delenn," Lindsay said, flipping her hair over her shoulder. Drawing her fingers through it, slowly, what looked like to Delenn like seductively. Mammaries and hair? Were these her only charms? "You haven't come up with a single suggestion."

Delenn had hoped that someone else would come up with her idea first, so that she wouldn't appear to be telling the Human students what to do. She would not let this girl back her into a corner, though. "There are many ways to retaliate against Minbari, some more subtle than others," she said, and she was keenly aware of John's eyes on her. He always listened so closely when she spoke, and it made her feel cared for, appreciated. "Most immigrants live in precarious situations, trying to establish careers in an alien culture and economy. If their businesses faltered even slightly, they might find themselves without enough income to continue to live on Earth, and be forced to return home."

"That's something the Nazis did in the 1930s," John added, nodding. "Make it illegal to frequent Jewish shops, hope that the Jews suffer enough that they decide to leave the country."

"If everyone here frequented a Minbari establishment in town, that would hopefully combat those who decided to withhold their business because of the terrorist's actions." More murmurs now - excited, anticipatory.

"Do you know of all the Minbari shops in town, Delenn?" Edgar called out. He'd become the biggest Minbari cheerleader, having offered half a dozen suggestions (it was not his fault they were no good), enthusiastically jumping on everyone else's thoughts.

"One of my host mothers works for the MIA. I am sure she can provide that information."

"That sounds like a good place to start," John called out, grinning. "Try to get your parents to do it, too." With that, everyone started to pack up their things and disperse, apparently quite excited at the prospect of doing something positive. Delenn hoped that their fervor would last more than a day or two before something newer and more interesting came along.

John leaned over, nuzzled his nose against her ear. "What do you think?"

"As you say, a good place to start." She folded up the blanket, packed it away in the canvas bag Miranda had given them. John was a few paces away, talking to some of his athletic colleagues.

"Delenn. Take a walk with me?" She looked up to see Lindsay, peering down at her.

"To what end?"

"I wanted to apologize for the other day." Delenn stood, hesitant. Lindsay did not look particularly remorseful; in fact, she had a gleam in her eye that Delenn did not trust at all. But she felt obligated to give the Human the opportunity to make amends, so she joined her, and they began to walk along the track that encircled the field.

"I didn't know how much he liked you," Lindsay said, walking rather quickly. She was taller than Delenn, and her pace forced Delenn to hurry to stay beside her. She was sure the Human was doing it on purpose. "If I had, I never would have said any of that."

"But if John did not care for me as he did, what you said would have been all right?"

Lindsay suddenly stopped, turning to face her, and Delenn nearly ran into her. "What I said was the truth. It still is. But it doesn't matter now. John's a good guy. He's not going to dump you now, not after everything that happened yesterday."

"There are plenty of attractive men at this school. You should not worry so much about John."

"That has nothing to do with this," Lindsay hissed, and Delenn knew she had hit a sore spot. Why had Lindsay not pursued John if she were interested in him? Why did she wait until he had begun a relationship with someone else? Humans could be so obtuse. "I just thought you should know that he's going to feel obligated to stay with you."

"I doubt that."

Lindsay shook her head, as though Delenn were an idiot. "You think it's going to be happily ever after for you two? Do you actually think this isn't just a high school thing? What, he's going to marry you? You're going to have lots of babies? Wait, you can't have babies, and you can't get married. He's going to want those things, Delenn. If not now, then eventually."

How did she do it? How did she continue to say the one thing that managed to pierce Delenn through, tap into some fear she didn't even know she had? Delenn was the one to shake her head, though more to hide the tremor she felt course through her, the bite of tears at the back of her eyes. "The universe will provide a path," she said, and turned back to the field to find John. He waved happily when he saw her, running over and engulfing her in a hug. They walked back to his car, surrounded by students, everyone laughing and talking; all Delenn could think about were Lindsay's words. How long would it be before John wanted more than she could provide? She worried it would not be long enough.


	7. Many Happy Returns

Many Happy Returns

John was happy. There were many different ways Delenn could tell that John was happy. The most evident, of course, was his smile. He was almost always smiling, though, so she had to look for a wide smile, his teeth exposed, dimples in his cheeks. When John was happy, he laughed a lot. Delenn had not realized how little she laughed until she came to Earth, and met John; she laughed a great deal more now. When John was happy, he would speak more loudly, as though he wished to share his exuberance with everyone nearby. When John was happy, he would kiss her extravagantly, hug her tightly, sometimes even hug her in such a way that her feet came off the ground. _Humans_, she would often think in such circumstances, with a smile of her own.

Delenn especially liked when John forgot that he was supposed to be sad, or angry, or frustrated, or disappointed, and instead became happy again. He would be staring at his homework, scowling, and then she would smile at him, or reach out to touch his hand, or he would remember something from earlier in the day, or a song he liked would begin to play, or any number of things would happen, and suddenly that bright grin would be back on his face, just like that.

But she knew John was in an especially good mood when he sang. He sang all kinds of songs. Some she was now beginning to recognize as popular Earth songs. Some he made up himself. The lyrics could be quite humorous, but were more likely to be totally banal. Yesterday he had sung a song about folding his socks. Delenn did not really understand; either he was happy about folding his socks and could not keep himself from breaking into song, or the act of singing itself made the task more enjoyable. She suspected the latter, but he had smelled the clean clothes with an expression that seemed almost joyous. Perhaps he greatly enjoyed clean clothes; that would be a surprise, though, as he often had an odor.

As he did at this moment, at lunch. He had a physical education class just before their meal break, and refused to shower afterwards, on the grounds that he would only perspire again and require another shower after his athletic practice after school. Delenn had strictly forbidden him from embracing her during the interval, though he often caught her unawares from behind. He was also now singing - loudly, brightly, only slightly off-key. Nick and Alfred and Regina and Yvonne were singing with him. The Humans had begun only a few days ago to sing some very strange songs. The lyrics made absolutely no sense to her, but everyone seemed to know them.

Delenn looked a word up on her lectern. She had been confused before; now she was utterly perplexed. John noticed her expression, and brought the song to a flamboyant finish.

"What is it, Delenn?"

"What did the prostitute do to earn such vengeance?" Delenn was not pleased, though not particularly surprised, when John and everyone else at the table stared at her with blank faces, as though she had spoken in Adronato.

"The prostitute?" John asked, his head slowly tilting a bit to the side.

"That is to be killed. Or has already been killed; I was unable to parse the meaning, as you can see."

"Who's killing a hooker?" Nick asked, cramming his mouth full of food.

"A man named Jingle," Delenn answered, though that was only a guess.

"What?" Alfred, eyes wide. He often looked at Delenn as though she were a type of oracle. Secretly (she would admit this not even to John), she found it amusing, even flattering.

"And the prostitute must be cleaned first? Is this some kind of Human ritual? I have looked through my lectern, but I can find no reference to it."

"Delenn, what are you talking about?" Yvonne asked, giggling.

"It is not my fault you sing such ridiculous songs!"

"I love you," John said, looking at her with a stupid, dreamy look on his face.

"I looked it up. 'Whore' is a derogatory name for a prostitute. I do not know why you are singing about her, and why she must be killed."

"Who's killing a hooker?" Nick asked again, a bit too loud this time. Mrs. Chu glared in their direction. The students sitting at the table next to theirs had all turned around and were also listening.

"You are all very annoying people. I am only asking about the song that you were just singing. One whore soaping slay."

A second of silence. And then they were all laughing. Delenn no longer felt more than the tiniest, most fleeting needle of hurt, almost immediately forgotten, because she knew this group of Humans was not laughing at her with malice, but with affection. And she could tell that for whatever reason, her difficulties with their language made them happy, none more so than John.

"One whore soaping slay! One whore soaping slay!" Nick shouted out, in the cadence of the song. He slapped the table with his hand; that was what _he_ did when he was very happy, she had learned.

John put an arm around her waist. "No, stop, you are smelly and you are damp," she complained, shying away from him. He persisted, though, trying to nuzzle her neck, and she had the hardest time rejecting him when he was this happy.

"One. Horse. Open. Sleigh," he enunciated carefully.

"Why are you killing a horse?"

"No, no. S-L-E-I-G-H. It's something you ride in."

"Maybe if you all did not sing with your mouths full of food, I would be able to understand the words more clearly."

"I love you," he said again, this time whispering in her ear.

"I'm glad," she whispered back, a second to bask in the glow of his affection. "Now I mean it, John. Stop holding me. You are quite revolting at the moment."

xxx

Busy, busy. He was so fucking busy. Classes! Basketball practice! Math tutoring! The occasional news interview! A serious girlfriend! And he also had An Idea he was working on; right now he wasn't doing much more than light research, mostly just letting the whole thing percolate in the back of his brain. He was stumped on how fast an object needed to rotate in zero-g to create artificial gravity, and how much power that would take; physics was not his best subject. Delenn was good at physics, but for a reason he hadn't quite figured out, he wanted to keep what he was working on to himself for the time being. He was afraid that she would think it was silly.

The sun was already setting by the time he got out of practice, showered, and got dressed again. John went to collect Delenn from the library. She wasn't at any of the tables working on homework…there she was, over in the corner in a big overstuffed chair, reading a book. She hadn't seen him come in, so he took a moment just to look at her. She had her lower lip caught between her teeth, which sometimes indicated that she was concentrating very hard on understanding what she was reading – she looked like that doing psychology homework, which had a lot of jargon she was always looking up. But she wasn't checking her lectern, so she must just have been engrossed in whatever it was she was reading.

John sometimes felt like he didn't know what to do with the love he felt for her. It was too much; it was overwhelming. Kissing her wasn't enough; making love to her wouldn't be enough, when they got to that point. He had an urge to just…_smoosh_ himself against her as hard as he could. He shook his head, thinking that his own thoughts were just too weird and gross, and she saw the movement and looked up.

"John," she said, registering his presence. Maybe that was enough – a woman existed named Delenn, and she knew who he was. Maybe that was enough.

"You ready to get out of here?"

She carefully marked her place and joined him, taking his hand. He stuck his free hand into his pocket, as he'd been doing all day. (McCarty had been cracking lots of jokes, but when he'd answered Ms. Van Houten's question about how to calculate the length of an arc with _I'd be happy to tell you, the answer is cool, but I'm very distracted by John's pocket pool_ John had threatened bloody, horrible death and McCarty had finally shut up.) John closed his hand around Delenn's gift, making sure it was still there. Every fifteen minutes or so, he'd be positive he'd lost it, but no, it hadn't gone anywhere.

He'd had a tough time figuring out Delenn's birthday. The Earth calendar and the Minbari calendar didn't really mesh all that well. It didn't help that Minbari didn't celebrate birthdays (it had been ten agonizing minutes explaining the concept in the first place), and Delenn didn't actually know exactly when she'd been born. She remembered her father telling her that it had been very cold, one moon cycle before the Leth'An, which was a holy day set aside to remember loved ones who had passed beyond the Rim. (It sounded like a boring and depressing holiday to John, but that was Minbar for you.) So he'd arbitrarily picked December 1st as her birthday.

He hadn't told her that part yet.

"John? Where are we going?" She'd realized that he wasn't taking her to her house, or to his, or to any other place she knew. He just smiled at her, enjoying the confusion and frustration on her face. Minbari didn't do surprises, and Delenn still didn't know how to deal with them; it was kind of like being with a little kid. She was excited and upset and anxious and happy all at the same time. "Where are we going, John?" she asked again, grabbing his arm.

"You'll see."

She flopped back into her seat with a huff. He was surprised she hadn't noticed his clothes; he'd brought them along to change into after practice. He didn't usually wear a dress shirt and actual nice slacks, let alone real man shoes. But she wasn't a hundred percent yet on what different Human clothing meant; she was still faintly scandalized every time she saw him in his basketball uniform (_your legs, John, I can see almost all of your legs_), but was delighted the time she showed up early on a Saturday morning and caught him still in his bathrobe.

"What was your trip here like?" he asked, starting to look for parking. Of course December 1st would fall on a Friday, and of course he'd decided to take her downtown. He could plan and plan and still manage to screw things up. It was gonna be okay, though. He would make it okay - better than okay. Tonight needed to be perfect.

"To Earth?" she asked. He nodded, and she thought for a little bit. "To be honest, there was not enough money to buy the best ticket, so I was in a rather small room without access to what were considered the luxury amenities, which unfortunately included the observation lounge. I mostly read and meditated in my room."

"Ah." That's what he'd been hoping for.

"Why do you ask?"

"Oh, just curious." But she was looking at him askance – he wasn't the greatest liar in the world. Most people seemed not to notice, but Delenn almost always did. He decided it would be better to own up to it, so he dropped her a wink. She glared at him – _what is it John what is it tell me tell me!_ in her eyes – then settled back into her seat.

But he found parking! He slid in right before some grizzly bear in a plaid suit who literally shook his fist at him, and for a second he was afraid the guy would try to race him for the spot anyway. But then he could see the guy get a good look at Delenn in the passenger seat, and he drove off with an almost fearful look on his face. _Stupid son of a bitch_, he thought as he came around the car to help Delenn out. She caught the change in him and was looking a question his way, so he smooched her and made some shit up about stepping in a slushy puddle, and she was so concerned with trying to figure out where he was taking her that she let it slide.

He was taking her to a place with a French name he didn't know how to pronounce. His mom had worked with him, along with how to say the names of the foods he was going to order; it was a lost cause. Sometimes he wanted to pat her on the head and tell her that for all Dad was a diplomat and had been everywhere, and she was educated and fancy and shit, at the end of the day John himself would be a big corn-fed Midwestern farm boy till the end of his days and that was that. But tonight he was going to eat duck-ah-low-raaaaaange and lays-airy-co-vairs and he was going to look the waiter straight in the eye and order a glass of wine and see what happened.

"John. Oh, John, what is this?"

"It's a restaurant," he answered, grinning at her. She still thought it was strange that Humans paid other people to prepare their food, when doing so for another for free was considered a great honor on Minbar. But she always seemed to get a kick out of it when he took her out – some things crossed the cultural boundary between them, and she seemed to understand that eating out, especially at an actual restaurant, was something a little more special.

"I don't understand the words," she murmured. There was a menu on display out front, and she had stopped to stare. She wasn't the only one staring – a couple smoking by the doors had turned their way and were looking at Delenn as though she were eating a puppy right in front of them.

"It's in French," John said, putting his arm around her waist. He hoped she didn't see the couple; he didn't want her feeling self-conscious.

"Je ne parle pas français," she said, her accent better than his. That was just uncalled for, really. John smiled, took her inside. She looked all around as he walked up to the maître d'.

"I have a reservation for two under Sheridan," he said, and the feeling that he was an adult now, that this was something adults did, that he wasn't just a kid playing dress up, struck him quite suddenly. The maître d' scrolled through the screen on his podium.

"Yes, right this…" The man trailed off; he had seen Delenn, who was standing quietly, holding John's hand. When she had first moved to Earth, those first few weeks at school, she might have blushed and looked at her feet under such scrutiny, but now she just looked back at the maître d' levelly.

The pause continued. "You were going to show us to our tables?" John prompted, bringing Delenn around the podium. The maître d' blocked him, holding up a finger. Something about that raised finger – so simple, so seemingly inoffensive – made John start to see red.

"Oh, I'm so very sorry," the maître d' said, his tone implying anything but. "We do not serve Minbari at this establishment."

"What?" John asked, feeling something behind his eyes start to throb.

"Your…companion. She is Minbari, is she not?"

"Of course I am Minbari," Delenn said, not an ounce of shame, but without any anger, either. But John felt her squeeze his hand tightly; one of these days she'd just snap one of his little hand bones, he knew it.

"We do not serve Minbari at this establishment," the maître d' repeated, with a tight little smile that was so prissy and smug that it was the last straw.

"That's bullshit," John told him, letting go of Delenn's hand and neatly stepping around the maître d'.

"Young man! Young man, you can't…"

"Hey there, folks!" John called, voice too bright. The heads in the restaurant all swiveled his way. Some faces were already angry at the interruption, some were vaguely alarmed, but most were just curious. He figured that teenaged boys didn't usually burst into this place and start yelling at the patrons. "I just thought you should all know that this restaurant just refused to seat my girlfriend because she's Minbari. If you have a problem with that policy, then get up and leave – that's the only way you can get through to people like this, by taking away your business. If you want to sit and eat at a place that turns people away just because they're different, then be my guest, but I just want you to know that you're a bigot and a shithead." With that, he bowed, turned, and walked out.

Delenn was waiting for him at the door, looking at him with a mixture of pride and regret. "We can eat somewhere else…" she said, and goddamnit, she should not be the one trying to comfort him.

"That's not the point."

"John, it's fine."

"No it isn't!" He didn't mean to shout at her, but he was so angry he was seeing spots. Before they could start back to his car, though, three couples came out of the restaurant. The first wasn't much older than they were, probably in college, and they exchanged info. ("You hear of anyone else that has a policy like that, you let us know," the girl said, insistent.) The second couple were actual, legitimate French people, and they both kissed Delenn on the cheek. He knew she wasn't a huge fan of kisses from People Who Were Not John, but she accepted them with grace.

The third couple were probably in their sixties, with elegant silver hair and the beginnings of wrinkles. "I recognize the two of you, from the news," the man said, smiling.

"That's us." John really didn't feel like being reminded of that right now.

The woman handed Delenn a small piece of paper, folded in half. She held her hands and bowed in the Minbari way; the man took the opportunity to lean in and whisper rather loudly into John's ear. "You wanted to take your pretty little girlfriend out someplace nice? This is a date?" John frowned at him. "Minbari have weak palates. She would not have liked French food anyway." A conspiratorial nod, and then the older couple turned and walked away, arm in arm.

"Look at this, John." Delenn showed him the paper - two lines in an elegant script. _When you're ready, join us. 925 Iowa Ave. _John looked up, but the couple had already disappeared. "What does it mean?"

"I don't know." He took her hand and started walking in the opposite direction, toward their second stop. He couldn't decide if he wanted to try and find someplace to eat along the way or not; mostly, he was thinking about the last couple. How strange, to not just give him their number. John looked at the slip of paper again, and an idea occurred to him so suddenly, so completely, that as soon as he thought of it he found himself positive he was right. Those people were spies. Probably worked for the GIA. They had been waiting for the best time to approach them both, and now he was about to be recruited into some top-secret program aimed at resolving the Earth-Minbari conflict before it turned into a war.

Maybe, John thought as they waited to cross the next intersection, they'd ask him to go off-world. In disguise. Piloting his own ship...

Delenn squeezed his hand, and smiled up at him when he came back to Earth. He realized that he had been staring off into the distance, probably looking morose as shit. So the French restaurant had been strike one; he wasn't out yet. Part two of this birthday date was still in play, and he decided that was the best part of the date, anyway. Still, he was hungry. He'd only had one lunch at lunch and no dinner, and they'd played a hard scrimmage against JV after school on top of that.

Secret spy man was probably right - Delenn wouldn't have liked French food that much. But what to eat instead? The question resolved itself when they passed by a food truck. The college kids waiting in line (some of the girls in Minbari robes, real ones, not "Slutbari" robes as McCarty called them) greeted them enthusiastically, and the owner passed them out free falafels. Spicy falafels; John smiled and chewed and pretended he didn't have a tiny tear sliding down his cheek, not when Delenn was touched by the gesture. He wondered if the lady who ran this food truck knew how she honored Delenn by giving her that food? He hoped so.

The wind picked up, and John started to get cold. Only one more block. He tried not to get tied up in his masculine ego, and he knew that she was a different fragging species, one that had evolved on a much colder world, but it kinda bugged that he was all hunched over against the wind, jacket pulled tight, while Delenn just walked along as easy as could be. He wanted to be even colder and give her his jacket, but the gesture would be lost on her.

There it was; Delenn stared at the neon sign for a moment, then looked at him with a mixture of confusion and excitement.

"Remember our first date?" he said, smiling. "I mean, the first part, before..."

"Of course I remember. It was a wonderful evening." Fighting with George and overhearing his mom's doubts aside, it had been a wonderful evening. In a lot of ways, that day marked the end of one part of his life and the beginning of another; BD, AD. Before Delenn, after Delenn.

They entered the arcade, and John asked at the back counter for Louisa, whom he had spoken to on the phone a few weeks earlier. Delenn was staring question marks his way, but he resolutely ignored her. "John. Who is Louisa." Was someone talking to him? He didn't hear anything; he checked out the prizes in the glass cabinet. "John." Then Louisa came out. She was about fifty years old, with a long, thick braid of perfectly white hair hanging down her back, bright blue eyes, and a truly magnificent set of cans. For about half a second John forgot that Delenn even existed. Then he blinked, and Louisa was extending her hand to shake, and they grinned at each other.

"You must be John! Of course you are! We haven't even set it up yet - it's still in the back!" She dragged him along, and he dragged Delenn along, and they ducked through a curtain and made their way through the labyrinth of boxes and old game systems. They entered a room that must have opened out to a loading dock in the back. Against one of the side walls was a black capsule around eight feet tall and five feet wide. The black didn't shine under the lights; it looked like null space, a void where the wall and floor should have been.

"John..." Delenn whispered.

"Look at it! Isn't it a corker! Ten thousand credits, but we'll make it back in a month, I guarantee you! Too many Earthbound folk around here, never a chance to see the real thing, though if you ask me this is better than the real thing!" John wondered if she always spoke in exclamation points. _This is some great toast I'm eating for breakfast today! Just a real corker of a slice of toast!_

"How much?" He hadn't discussed this part of it with Louisa on the phone; he'd emptied out his savings just in case, and loaded it on a print-activated credit chit (this only after Dad had lectured him on how dumb it was to carry around three hundred credits in cash). He hoped he would have enough.

"Oh, screw off, kid," she said with a smile. "Though not literally; I don't want to be cleaning anything up, if you catch my drift." He did, and thankfully Delenn didn't. One last brilliant wink, and Louisa left them alone, the door back into the arcade shutting with a good loud _thud_.

John walked over to the black capsule and rested his hand gently on its side. He didn't think he was imagining things; it was definitely warmer than it should have been. "I read about this six months ago, when they were testing the first prototypes. It was developed for EarthForce training, but they figured they could make back the R and D money by selling and leasing units commercially."

"What is it?" He didn't answer her, just found the nearly invisible depression on the side that opened the capsule; there was a sound as the side slid upwards, a barely-there sound. To John, it sounded like the future. He took Delenn's hand and brought her inside.

Faint blue lights guided them to sit on the bottom, in two low seats sculpted into the capsule itself. Once they were situated, the blue lights faded away until they were left in absolute blackness; not even a hint of light, from inside or out. The air was cool and slightly sweet. John could hear Delenn's breathing, a little louder and quicker than it normally was. Her grip on his hand was iron.

It started out so distant and dim that at first it was almost a subliminal impression of light. A tiny white dot, suspended in the black void, and at first it was hard to tell if it was growing any larger or not. Then it expanded in an almost dizzying jolt to their senses - a star, hanging before them in shining brilliance. Flares seemed to snake out right toward them, and John felt Delenn jerk backwards. He let go of her hand, slid his arm around her waist; she leaned against him, hand resuming its tight grip, but on his knee this time.

They swung around the sun, and a system spun before them, the stately dance of planets bound in orbit. It wasn't Sol's system; no familiar blue dot of Earth or rocky expanse of the asteroid belt. A few small planets first, all limned in pale rings of atmosphere. They swooped down past each, seeing alien lakes and seas, towering mountain chains, desert vistas, ice fields, immense forests, monstrous geysers spewing forth. Then they flew past gas giants, the colors almost too rich and bright to look at; the eye wasn't meant to see anything like this. Bands of colors, swirled together, encircled by shining coronets.

A brief respite as they left the system, and then they were dodging comets. John found himself wishing only for a moment that there were controls, that he could guide them, but he made himself relinquish control over the experience. The last comet zipped by, and then they were caught up in its tail; glistening specks of dust all around them. It was like floating in a cloud of diamonds.

They returned to the blackness, and John realized that he was shaking just a little bit. He wished he could see Delenn's face, but by the time the blackness gave way he was too entranced to look her way. Tiny pinpricks of light appeared all around them, not too different from the night sky on Earth if you got away from the cities. But then they hurtled toward a thicker patch of stars, and the galaxy they belonged to came into focus. They spun around its arms, passed through the veil of a nebula, and were finally swept along on a wave of sparkling, gem-studded asteroids caught in the gravity well of a black hole. They slipped down past the event horizon, and the singularity overwhelmed them.

The darkness held them, safe and secure; just as his heartbeat slowed down to close to normal, the faint blue lights reappeared, guiding them to the exit. John helped Delenn stand - her knees seemed as weak as his - and they groped their way out. The back room of the arcade seemed to hang in front of him as insubstantial as a ghost; he couldn't make out any colors. Black and white and shades of gray. He knew it was the trip through the cosmos that had been fake, just an hour spent in a state-of-the-art VR pod, but it was the real world that didn't feel real at the moment.

John looked down at Delenn. She was looking all around with a slightly dazed expression on her face; he thought that she must feel the same way he did. But when he took her hand and smiled down at her, she didn't even look at him. "Please take me home, John," she whispered. He waited a moment, waited for her to smile, for her to tell him how much she'd enjoyed it, but she just stood there, staring at the ground, eyes blinking like she was trying to keep from crying. He knew he should go through the store and thank Louisa, but for some reason it felt imperative to get Delenn home as soon as possible, so he slipped out the loading dock door to the back alley behind the arcade. They made their way back around to his car, and he drove them through the first sputtering flurries of snow of the season. Normally he'd be thrilled, pulling up some Christmas songs to sing along with, but a glance at Delenn in the passenger seat showed her studying the dashboard. So he just took the quickest way back, wondering what he'd done wrong.

Strike two, maybe (though he didn't understand how that could have been a strike), but guys hit home runs on two strikes all the time. He still had her gift in his pocket. That would have to do it; it would have to.

He parked out front, and was relieved to see that Livia's car was gone; she and Judith must have still been out on their own date. Delenn still looked vaguely crushed as she unlocked the door, but she let him trail behind her inside the house. He followed her downstairs to her bedroom, and then they just stood there. Delenn wringing her hands, John waiting for her to say something, anything. He stuck his hand in his pocket, and for a second his fingers got tangled on an errant thread, and he was sure he'd lost her gift. Lost it, after all of this. But then his fingers closed around the velvet box, and he pulled it out.

"Um, this is for you. For your birthday. I know you said you don't have one, so I picked today. Happy birthday." Not the best speech, but he felt like trying to say anything else would just make him start babbling even worse, so he held the box out. She just looked at it, so he took her hand, flipped it over, and rested the box on her palm.

Delenn looked at the box, then stroked the top of it with her fingertips. She finally made eye contact with him, and all he could see on her face was confusion. "Thank you for the gift, John."

"You didn't look at it." She wrinkled her brow at him, then looked at the velvet box again.

"It is very nice." _Oh, for crying out loud_. John took the box back from her and opened it up. She stared at its contents for a long, long beat, that look she'd worn at the arcade coming back over her features.

"It's a tradition, kind of. Boys give their class rings to their girlfriends to wear. But you don't really wear jewelry, especially not rings, so I took it to a jeweler." The jeweler had snipped away the part of the band that wasn't engraved, straightened and thinned the rest, and attached a pin mechanism to the back. Now John carefully undid it, and pinned the brooch he'd had made from his class ring onto the front of Delenn's robes.

She looked down at it, touched it gingerly, and burst into tears. She looked up at him with an almost reproachful look, and John felt the bottom of his stomach fall out.

"You don't like it," he said.

"It's perfect. And the arcade was perfect, and the meal was perfect, and even trying to take me to such an impressive restaurant was perfect. I cannot do the same for you."

"But it's your birthday," he explained. "I'm the one that gets you presents; you're not supposed to give any in return."

"But you always do such wonderful things for me! I have researched your holiday traditions. I will be expected to give you gifts in a few weeks, but I have nothing I can give you. I came to Earth with a single case of possessions, and I have no money. There is nothing I can give you, nothing at all."

"No. No, Delenn, that's not true."

She didn't seem to hear him. "I will be so dishonored," she managed through her tears. John wiped her cheeks dry, then held her face in his hands.

"Give me a kiss." She sniffled and stared at him, so he repeated himself. She leaned up on tiptoe and brushed her lips against his. "There's no better gift that you could give me. That anyone could give me. You're the only thing I want." She kissed him again, melting against him. He hadn't said anything that wasn't one hundred percent true; this was all he wanted, this right here, this woman in his arms.

xxx

He'd reluctantly torn himself away from Delenn, before Livia and Judith had even come back. He was afraid he'd go too far, and that was the last thing he wanted, especially this night. It was getting harder and harder to keep himself confined to kissing and occasional above-the-waist petting; his body didn't understand genetic incompatibility or anything like that, and was screaming at him to make a baby with this girl post haste. Their make-out sessions were getting shorter and less heated, and he was sure Delenn noticed, but it really wasn't a conversation he thought they'd be able to have.

So he drove home, not seeing the road at all, and thank God he traveled the route between their houses all the time. His stomach was still lodged someplace around his heart, and his head was swimming; the things she did to him. Mr. Gomez gave him a funny look from his car as he passed him turning onto their street, and it wasn't until John parked the car that he got a glimpse at himself in the rearview mirror and realized he was grinning like he was hopped up on all kinds of drugs.

Inside, slipping up to his bedroom without running into anyone else. He took the time to carefully hang up his nice clothes, and then even though he felt as though he'd never sleep again, he climbed into bed. Trying to do anything else was ridiculous; he'd never be able to concentrate. So John just lay there, replaying the evening (he skipped the French restaurant part), letting himself just _feel_ everything he felt for Delenn without having to think about it. Despite himself, he found himself dozing, and the clink against his window snapped him awake with a snort.

John convinced himself he was hearing things, or had actually been asleep and dreaming, when he heard it again. Tapping this time, right on his window. Half a second of old childhood fears crowded in on him. _The Nightsnatcher from Dilgar has finally come to get me he's going to drag me outside and eat all my skin_. He walked cautiously over to his window, but his lamp was on right beside it and all he could see was his own reflection.

Tapping. Light tapping. John's arms broke out in goosebumps despite himself.

With fingers that looked more steady than they felt, he reached out and waved off his lamp. Delenn's white face hung outside his window, peering in at him. He stared at her for a second, nonplussed. Then he unlocked the window and opened it up.

"How did you get here?"

"Judith drove me over."

"No, how did you _get_ here?" Delenn waved her hand at him, and he helped her climb into his bedroom. There were splotches of pink on her cheeks, and she looked nervous, but also excited, happy. "How did you get up to the window?"

"I climbed. There is a porch just underneath. You did not know that?"

"Of course I know it - I've snuck out enough times. Why didn't you just come to the door and knock?"

She looked everywhere but at him. He hadn't seen her look or act like this in a couple months; not since they'd first started making out and she'd been too embarrassed to actually discuss kissing out loud.

"I did not wish your parents to know I was here," she said, blushing even more. John didn't have a clue what was going on, and before he could formulate his next question Delenn sidled up to him, hands on his chest, tugging on his shirt as she leaned up to kiss him. John found he didn't care anymore why she'd snuck over - though it wasn't really sneaking on her end, since Judith had brought her over, and that was kind of weird - he was just really happy to be kissing her again. Surprise kisses were the best.

But the point of no return loomed up sooner than ever, and he backed up, breaking the kiss off. "John..." she protested, trying to follow, but he held his hands out.

"That's all."

"Why?"

"You know why, Delenn." Something gleamed in her eye then, something he hadn't seen before. Something a little devious, a little flirty. She closed the distance between them again, her hips moving side to side far more than they usually did, and she captured his hands when he held them up again to stop her. She kissed him, _boy_ did she kiss him, putting a hand over his heart. She slid it down his chest, not stopping at his sternum, not stopping at his navel; she just kept on going, and John finally jerked back, feeling like an exposed live wire.

"Delenn!"

"Shh, your parents will hear." Her mouth latched onto his neck, and her hands were everywhere, absolutely everywhere. John felt his higher brain functions shut down, one after another. Goodbye, language. See you later, cognition.

"What...what..." he stammered, and she wound her arms around his neck and licked his lips. Nice to know you, motor skills.

"The Minbari have a ritual."

"Of course you do." Hey, sarcasm was still working.

"It is an important ritual. But I am the only member of my clan living on this planet, so it cannot be done as it ought. I think you will prefer it this way, though."

"What's the ritual?" he asked, hoping she wasn't expecting him to meditate any time soon.

"The Shan'fal. It is an exploration of one another's centers of pleasure."

Her words might as well have been a mass driver landing between them. _Oh sweet holy hell_. John stared at her, knowing his eyes were bugging out of his head, pretty sure he was starting to drool. He could feel his heartbeat in his groin, and knew that he'd die pretty soon.

"Delenn. You don't have to, you know. What I said earlier, about you kissing me being a gift..."

"Be quiet." He obeyed, snapping his mouth closed so fast his teeth clicked. "You talk about boyfriends and girlfriends, and your traditions. Giving me your ring was an important step in our relationship as far as you are concerned, yes? Relationships progress in a certain way on Minbar as well. There are steps that a couple must follow. This is one of them."

"Are you sure?"

"I am sure." This time he didn't push her away and didn't freak out when his body responded. He gave himself over to it, to each sensation. They undressed each other, and she was more perfect than he could have ever imagined. Exploration was the right word for it; they took their time, learning all they could. John learned that Minbari experienced pleasure differently than humans, not a steady climb toward a single peak, but something more like a sine wave; there was an ebb and flow to it, and he studied the rhythms of her tide.

Hours later, he held her in bed, sure that no human being had ever felt happier and more satisfied than he did at that moment. "I love you," he told her, and it wasn't something he felt, it was just an objective fact he was reporting. But she had already fallen asleep, curled up against him. John hugged her close and surrendered to sleep himself. His last conscious thought was that nothing would ever come between them. Nothing.


	8. An End

An End

John had convinced her to sign up for an art class when they enrolled for the second semester. Delenn didn't feel she was a very artistic person, and even though objectively her sketches and studies appeared at least the equal if not the superior of the other students' work, it seemed to her that her art was inauthentic. The piece she was currently working on, an exploration of the human form, as demonstrated by Mustafa at the moment, should have been pouring easily from her pencil, requiring no thought. She should have found herself gripped by an unavoidable desire to express whatever emotion the sight of the lanky teenage boy inspired in her. Art should not be cold and logical, but something unbound, something reckless, something free. But Delenn did not seem to have that particular quality, and it bothered her.

She carefully used her thumb to measure the proportions between head and body again, and found that she had made his torso too long. Careful application of a gummy piece of rubber and the offending lines were removed. She consulted the appropriate section on proportions on her lectern again, and began to draw.

"Delenn." John's whisper, oddly loud. She loved him, she truly did, but he was not the most subtle of creatures. "Hey, Delenn."

"I am concentrating," she told him, glancing back up at Mustafa. The horrible boy had moved again, and was now giggling at the group of students nearest to him, who were giggling right back. Delenn could not understand what was so endlessly humorous about posing for study – all he had to do was sit atop the table and meditate. She could not conceive of an easier way to earn the arbitrary "points" each class's instructor depended on in order to assign the equally arbitrary "grades." She would have liked to tell him to sit still, but Mustafa was one of the students who did not like her. In fact, even now, as she looked back up to calculate the angle formed by his arm resting on his knee, he noticed her and rolled his eyes. She ignored him; Delenn was now quite good at that.

John passed her a note. _I want to Shan'fal you_. She flipped the note over and ignored it.

She went back to her sketch. Now that the proportions were correct, she began to work on adding the finer details. Hands were still rather troubling, but Delenn was satisfied that her efforts were more than adequate, especially considering that John's attempts at drawing hands were particularly laughable. Sometimes he did not even draw the correct number of fingers.

"Delenn," John whispered again. She ignored him. He had worked very hard to make her decide to sign up for this art class, and it still rankled her that he had only done so because he wanted a chance for them to, as he put it, "goof off." She had sacrificed Earth Government to take Introduction of Art; she had been quite looking forward to learning the intricacies of the Human's governmental system, since it differed drastically from the Minbari form of government. That type of knowledge would be very useful to her in the future, when she studied to become a diplomat.

"Delenn." She slid his note under her lectern, and started drawing the folds in Mustafa's shirt. John tapped the top of her lectern with his pencil. "Did you read it?"

"Yes."

"And?"

"It is not a verb, John." Shading was her favorite part, and she could allow herself to work without focusing quite so intently. That was why she was able to tell that John had gone very still, and was simply watching her. She found his close scrutiny much more difficult to ignore. Delenn managed a minute, maybe two, but finally could not help but look up at him. He smiled, then stuck his tongue out at her and wiggled it from side to side.

_In Valen's name._ Delenn felt her cheeks go hot, and felt an answering heat elsewhere. She would have thought that his crude pantomimes and sometimes vulgar words would no longer affect her so, since he had been "Shan'fal-ing" her for six weeks now. But rather than become inured to his physical charms, she found herself ever more addicted to them; more sensitive rather than less. His smile had become a grin – he was well aware of how he affected her, and the only consolation was that she had comparable powers over him.

She nodded to answer his question, and went back to working on her sketch. A few minutes, and then she remembered something; she pulled his note out, wrote a question and passed it over.

_Don't you have basketball practice after school?_

_Too long to wait. I'll explode._

_You are entirely too dramatic. I do not wish to skip any classes._

_I'll do that thing you like._

_You always do. That is not sufficient motivation._

_That thing you like NO HANDS._

They were only reviewing in Anatomy and Physiology anyway, and she had an A. It would be perfectly acceptable to skip.

xxx

Higgins couldn't believe the press hadn't got wind of it yet. She supposed it was good timing – the White House rebuilding was scheduled to end in an elaborate ceremony and dedication in three days, and that was all the news seemed to be covering. Which worked for Higgins just fine; the press seemed to do nothing but get in her way. Sometimes she wished that the press would just report what _she_ wanted them to report. ISN in particular could be a real thorn in her side.

But not today. Today, as far as ISN and all the rest of them knew, the administration was worried about the White House ceremony and the upcoming vote on the tax reform bill, and that was pretty much it. People had short attention spans, anyway; few things endeared "the people" to Higgins, but that was one of them. Oh, they still hated the Minbari plenty, but the feverish rhetoric had died down, and it was only the extremists – on both sides – that were still harping about it.

Which meant that Higgins and a few others were able to slip into the spaceport with little fanfare, and now they were on their way to the Io jump gate, to rendezvous with a similar group of Minbari officials – _not_ the Grey Council, unfortunately – well away from any inhabited systems. They were going to meet on the Minbari ship, which rankled Higgins; as far as she was concerned, the Minbari had started this whole fragging mess, and _they_ should be the ones groveling, not EarthGov. But the Minbari had steadfastly refused to have the discussions on the _Achilles_, so President Nsedu had grudgingly agreed to this set-up. Higgins knew even this last-ditch effort was probably going to fail, but she was going to do her best, by God. If it came to war, let it be on their heads.

Eighteen hours to prepare for the meeting, and normally Higgins would go over film. She would study the speech patterns of the people she would meet with, study how they constructed arguments, what got them riled up. She would try to find weaknesses, and know what weapons to bring. But she didn't have any film on the Minbari. Most of their communiqués were straight text on data crystals; she knew the late Governor Harrison had met with a member of the Grey Council, Duke-something, a few weeks before he had been assassinated, but the meeting had come to nothing.

Just like this meeting would come to nothing. Higgins should have tried to stay optimistic, but she knew there was no way the train hurtling toward Earth was going to be stopped. Not now, not after everything that had happened. Oh, they could give up Orion 7. The Minbari fever-dream of peaceful cohabitation was never going to happen, but EarthGov might just pull the colonists off the planet entirely. Which would never happen, and would be a cowardice worse than full surrender in any war, but it was the only way to avoid war that Higgins could think of. And she was not authorized to offer such a thing.

The shuttle docked, and Higgins drew in a deep breath. She had never been on a Minbari ship before, and she didn't know what to expect. Not these clean, spare lines that were vaguely Art Deco, vaguely East Asian. Not this polite and deferential aide who greeted them and led them to a small, informal room. Higgins didn't expect to sit on a pillow on the floor or to be offered a fragrant cup of tea. She was used to conference rooms and back alleys, screaming purple-faced men and ominous threats.

For the first time in a long time, Higgins felt that curious buoyancy that long ago had been the reason she'd gotten into this job in the first place. She felt hope.

xxx

John woke up ten minutes before his alarm went off, and spent the time stretching and luxuriating, thinking about how goddamn perfect his life was. He'd snuck over to Delenn's last night and was still feeling slightly tingly. He could already smell breakfast being cooked; waffles, he thought. The team had one regular season game left – the Cougars, who had won a single game in the last two years. This way the sucky seniors would get to play, and he'd be guaranteed a win for his last home basketball game. He still had all As. The City Council was preparing to vote on a measure that would add the Minbari to the Anti-Discrimination laws they already had on the books; he was going to give a speech or something at the open house next week, and he was going to be awesome. Well, after Dad helped him out some.

Then it was just a couple months till Spring Break (he'd already started researching; he wanted to take Delenn someplace nice – maybe Rio), and baseball would finally start. His last season. He knew he wasn't good enough to play in the Majors, and probably not good enough even for triple-A. He'd be able to get on a college team, but he wasn't going to college, so this was it. And he planned to make the most of it. Maybe the National Championship was beyond reach, but he'd be damned if they didn't play (and win) the State Championship.

Beyond that, though…. He hadn't talked to Delenn yet about her plans after the school year ended. She hadn't mentioned anything, either. He didn't know if she was planning to attend another year, or if she was going to travel, or go to college. John wouldn't let himself even think about the possibility that she might go back to Minbar after school let out in May. Every time his mind started heading in that direction, he just cut it right off at the pass. She loved him; he knew that. She wouldn't just leave him, never to see him again. However they had to compromise, whatever they had to do, they'd do it. John knew that. He couldn't believe otherwise.

Shower, breakfast, finding all his shit, and then he was gone. Thankfully his mom left for work before he left for school, so she wasn't around to ask him why he was now leaving the house ten or fifteen minutes earlier than he used to. "John!" Delenn always looked so delighted to see him. He'd found a dead-end street a few blocks from her house, and they parked down at the end of it. Sometimes he took her into the backseat and took his time; today he just climbed on top of her, loving her delighted giggles as he groped her mercilessly.

His life was perfect. He had never been happier. And when Principal Sumalong called Delenn to his office during art class, John didn't have any idea that the world was about to end.

xxx

It came down to two demands. One demand was Minbar's – the Grey Council wanted Orion 7's resources to be evenly divided, regardless of which colony labored to gather them. The other demand was Earth's – President Nsedu wanted a strict division between the two colonies; the Minbari would have the polar caps and the northern latitudes of the largest continent, and Earth would have the equatorial regions and the small island chains, and never the twain should meet.

Neither side would compromise. Higgins offered everything she was authorized to offer, and some things she wasn't; she called back to EarthDome incessantly, asking for more leeway which she was never granted. Could the Minbari establish their own mine on the equator? No – that would be part of the Earth colony. Would the Minbari purchase the heavy metals they needed from the Earth colony's mine? No – they preferred to barter their own resources. Would the Earthers accept deuterium and plutonium in trade for the heavy metals? No – the Earth colony had no interest in trading with the Minbari colony, and would remain self-sufficient.

Round and round they went, and after six days Higgins finally returned home crushed and despondent. Nsedu read her report while Higgins cowered in the President's office, mortified that in the end, she hadn't been able to do her job. Two irreconcilable demands were going to be all it took to throw a wrench into the whole process.

"So that is it," Nsedu said, leaning back in her chair, tossing Higgins' report down on the desk as though it were dirty.

"Just let them build their own mine," Higgins blurted, too frustrated to care anymore. "There's no reason to go to war over a mine."

Nsedu stared, for so long that Higgins started to squirm. "The equator is part of our territory. The Minbari have no right to any of the resources in that area."

"But—"

"No, Miss Higgins. On this I will not compromise. We have compromised enough. I have already taken steps to reverse some of the…ill-advised decisions of my predecessor."

"What do you mean?" Higgins felt herself grow a little cold.

"Earth and Minbar are too dissimilar. Our peoples were not meant to intermingle so freely. The business with Orion 7 has demonstrated that quite amply." Nsedu stood, went to her window, and looked out. The view here was stunning; the Alpine peaks as rugged and beautiful as they'd been a thousand years ago. With a jolt, Higgins realized this view probably wasn't that different from what her counterpart might be seeing this very instant back on Minbar.

"The longer they stay here, the more they begin to think that we should live side by side, and the more problems we will have in the future. Time to stop it now." Higgins waited, watching the quiet line of Nsedu's back. It became clear that the conversation was over, and Higgins stood and left. She had failed.

xxx

When Delenn didn't come back from art class, John didn't think too much of it. When she wasn't at their table at lunch time, he was a little concerned, but figured that she was just having to do something with her exchange student status. Papers to sign, or whatever. Or maybe she was doing something about colleges – that perked him up, and he ate his pudding, humming a little, mind skipping on to something else.

He was sitting in Galactic History, taking notes out of the textbook, when Yvonne came in to get him. She should have been in Sociology with Delenn this hour. Her face was white, but her eyes were puffy and red.

"It's Delenn," she said, and started crying. John didn't bother to ask questions, or even get permission from the teacher. He just gathered up his stuff and followed Yvonne out the door. Just before he left, he caught a glimpse of Lindsay smirking in the corner – if he found out she had anything to do with why Yvonne was crying, with whatever had happened to Delenn, then she would have to answer to him, and it wouldn't be pretty.

Yvonne led him through the halls to Delenn's locker – Delenn was sitting on the floor in front of it, calmly taking out the few books stacked in the bottom and putting them in her bag. She seemed composed and calm, but upon seeing her Yvonne started sobbing loudly. John felt his arms break out in goosebumps.

"What are you doing?" he asked, sitting down next to her.

"Cleaning out my locker." She fussed with the order of the books in her bag, taking them out and putting them back in. She wouldn't look at John, not even when he put a hand to her face.

"Why?"

Then she told him.

xxx

In the three years since his father had been promoted to a desk, John had been to his office building one time, and even then he had ventured no further than the lobby. Now he strode through the corridors as though he owned the place, and found his dad huddled in a conference room with everyone else who worked there. The faces that turned his way as he entered were stunned and blank.

"Did you hear?" John demanded. His father walked over to him, hands out in a placating gesture, and John was suddenly filled with so much fury that it felt as though his heart were going to shake right out of his chest. "_Don't_ tell me to be quiet, and _don't_ tell me to leave."

"I'm not, John. Let's just go to my office." He already had a hand on John's elbow, leading him away. John did not want to be led away, but he was still lucid enough to know that he wasn't really angry at his dad, and that yelling at him wouldn't do any good.

"They can't do this."

"They already have. It's done, John." David sat down behind his desk, and John noticed the bags under his eyes, the pallor of his skin.

"You knew. You knew this was going to happen."

"No. We knew that the talks weren't going well, and we knew that _something_ was going to happen. But not this."

"Dad." And John tried to continue, tried to argue his case, but seeing his dad slumped low in his chair, he knew that for the first time in his life, his dad was not going to be able to make things better. He wasn't going to be able to make a call or two, trade a couple favors, maybe send the right gift to the right person, and work everything out. John felt his throat go tight, almost as though it were closing up, and he stuck out a blind hand to find his own chair.

"Oh, Johnny, I'm sorry."

They sat in silence for a minute or two. John's mind was racing, but he couldn't seem to settle on any one thought. "What if…" he started, and found that his mouth was dry, too dry to speak. With the telepathy that both his parents seemed to have when it came to him, David silently passed him a glass of water. "What if I married her?"

John held his father's stare, chin held high. He felt as though his old man were trying to get a glimpse of his soul. Finally, David slowly shook his head.

"Why not? Why wouldn't that work?"

"Even if you found a judge that would do it – and you should know that there hasn't yet been a legally recognized marriage between a human and a member of another species – it wouldn't change anything. Son, listen to me. If there were something I could do, I'd already be doing it. But the President has made up her mind."

"I won't accept that."

"You have to."

But John was already gone.

xxx

Delenn hadn't let John touch her. When she returned to the house (yesterday she would have said it was _her_ house, but that was no longer true), she did not allow Judith to touch her. Livia was not home, and likely would not be home any time soon, but Delenn would not allow her to touch her when she did return, either. She did not want hugs, or kisses, or hands on her at all. She did not wish to speak to any of them; Judith, at least, understood that. Delenn had finally had to raise her voice when John would not stop pestering her with questions. The hurt look on his face when he dropped her at the house threatened to penetrate the wall she had carefully built up, but Delenn did her best to ignore the look just as carefully. She also ignored the way he leaned over to her, the way he reached a hand out for her. He had planned on exiting his vehicle and walking her to the door, she knew that, she knew him so well, but she said, "Don't," and he did not.

Now she was in the basement room that yesterday she would have called her own, packing her things. Principal Sumalong had told her only an hour ago that the President had ordered all Minbari residents and immigrants and guests – every single Minbari on the whole planet – to leave. The President did not care to where they went; they could return to Minbar, or to one of Minbar's colonies, or to another planet. They could conceivably even go to the disputed colony on Orion 7. But they could not stay on Earth.

"I am so sorry, Delenn," Principal Sumalong had said, wringing his hands. "You of course do not have to return to class."

"Livia called you? She did not call me?"

"I did not speak with Ms. Burke."

Livia still had not called Delenn, as she folded her robes and packed them away. The longer Livia did not call, the higher Delenn's wall became. Obviously the other Minbari on the planet were more important than one single adolescent. Delenn understood; that did not mean she forgave.

Her robes were packed, except for one to wear tomorrow, and one to wear the next day, which would be the last day. It took her much less time to pack what was in the lavatory; most of the items had been purchased here on Earth. She would not take them with her. Delenn walked back into the bedroom, scanning the walls and tables and shelves. That clock was not hers; it was Judith's. And that painting was not hers; Livia had purchased it.

The blue stuffed animal was hers. John had given it to her. The first thing he had given to her, the very first day they had known each other. Delenn was studying it, wondering why the feel of its synthetic fur did not bring tears to her eyes, why its shiny little eyes didn't make her curl up and weep, when she heard the front door upstairs open and close. She could not make out the exact words, but she recognized the timber and cadence of John and Judith's voices. Then his thundering steps coming down the stairs. He threw her door open, but did not enter. She could feel his eyes on her back.

"One of these days you will trip and fall, and hurt yourself," she said, tracing the stitches that made up the bear's little mouth. It was smiling at her. Delenn put the bear down before she ripped its smile off.

"We'll go out into the country." His voice was hoarse. He had been crying. "We'll just find some little cabin and we'll hide."

"They know I'm here, John." She wouldn't turn to look at him. She didn't want to look at him. She didn't want to see his Human face, which would be twisted and ugly, all the emotions written there clearly for anyone to see. "I am a registered exchange student. If I do not show up at the spaceport the day after tomorrow, they will know."

"Then we'll refuse to go!"

"No!" Delenn spun on him then, whatever wall there had been in ruins at her feet. He actually took a step back, his eyes wide, which somehow made her even angrier. "We will do nothing! I will go to the spaceport and I will go home, and that is all that will be done."

"But—"

"And I do not wish to hear any more of your silly, stupid ideas. There is nothing you can do. There is nothing that you could have ever done. I will go home, where I will not be stared at, where no one will call me names, where I will be the same as everyone else…" Delenn stopped, aware that she was crying, crying too hard to continue speaking. John's arms were around her, strong and solid. In two days, she would never have the opportunity to feel his arms around her ever again.

Ever since she had begun to study their language, Delenn had been fascinated by the Human's use of idiom. The way that they could describe so many things by using words that made no sense, or meant something else, or were hyperbolic, never failed to bring a smile to her face, once she had parsed the true meaning. For the first time, though, Delenn was glad that Humans used idioms for a reason other than that they amused her, because there was no equivalent expression in any of Minbar's languages to express the way she was feeling.

Her heart was broken.

xxx

His mom hadn't even bothered lying when she called the school the next morning. "John's not coming in. Today, or tomorrow, or the next day. I don't know when he'll be back. No, he's not sick. What do you mean, why isn't he coming in? Are you an idiot?" He wasn't sure whether she'd actually said the last - that was how Lizzie had reported the conversation going, but it may have been exaggeration on her part. John didn't find any of this out till that evening, when he, Delenn, and Judith went back to his house for dinner.

Delenn had not stopped touching him at any point in the last twenty-four hours. Even at the dinner table, she would not release her grip on his hand. Normally he would have complained - it made cutting up his food a whole hell of a lot harder - but he didn't have much of an appetite. Lizzie didn't either, apparently. She just pushed her food around, when she wasn't staring at Delenn with watery eyes.

"Will you wait until Friday?" John's mother asked, pushing her own food around. Only Judith had really eaten; mechanically, and with no indication that she'd tasted a thing.

Even though the question had been directed to her host mother, Delenn answered. "No. We will go to the spaceport tomorrow evening." The conversation ended after that.

Now Delenn was perched on the side of his bed while John paced back and forth. The muscles in his legs felt like they were on fire; he wanted to jump out the window and run. To where, he had no idea. Maybe straight to Geneva, so he could grab the President and shake her, shouting _why? why? why?_

"John. Please come sit down."

"What, and just pretend like everything's normal? Nothing's wrong, so let's just cuddle?"

A beat, and John thought she wouldn't answer. "There is no reason for you to be angry with me," she finally said, her voice only a little reproachful. It was hard to let out the breath he was holding, and he could practically feel his lungs shake. His chest felt tight. He forced himself to walk to the bed, to sit down next to her. His stomach hurt. Delenn put a hand on his back, gently stroking between his shoulder blades. He winced, and she jerked her hand away.

"I would stay if I could," she said.

"I know."

They sat for a long time. He couldn't have said how long. Long enough for Judith to leave; long enough for the house to grow still around them. At some point she had taken his hand, or he had taken hers. He imagined that he could feel her pulse just as he felt his own, the rhythms identical.

Finally John clutched at her, unable to understand how he'd kept himself from grabbing her for this long. "I need you," he whispered harshly. "Please." A long moment, and he was sure she would extricate herself from his arms, sure that she would leave him. He wished he could take the words back. But Delenn only nodded, twisting around so she could slide her hands under his shirt, pulling it off. They were both well-acquainted with undressing each other; it didn't take long at all.

He made love to her, and it should have been joyous. It should have been perfect. Instead it felt like giving up, and when he came there was no pleasure in it at all. John fell asleep with the taste of ashes in his mouth.

xxx

The drive took three hours, and they were both the longest and shortest three hours of John's life. Judith was driving; he and Delenn were sitting in the backseat. Mom and Lizzie were following in their own car. Dad and Livia were both working, of course. John hadn't seen his father since his visit to his office. He'd thought that maybe he'd come home to at least say goodbye to Delenn, if nothing else. But he hadn't, calling instead to tell John's mother that he was going to Geneva on the next shuttle. Which meant that he also hadn't said goodbye to John, though of course he didn't know that yet.

Delenn didn't know, either. She was gripping his hand tightly, so tightly it almost hurt. Judith kept glancing back at them in the rearview mirror, her own face tear-streaked and red. She was probably wondering why John looked so at peace, why he wasn't crying himself; Delenn was probably thinking the same thing.

He hadn't packed anything because he didn't want Mom and Lizzie to know, but he had emptied out his savings. McCarty had given him a grand on top of that. When they got to the ticket counter (his mom had raved for a solid hour last night about how EarthGov wouldn't even foot the bill; no, the Minbari deportees had to buy their own tickets, and fly commercial), after they'd gone through all the checkpoints and security stops, John was going to buy a ticket himself. Wherever Delenn was going, that was where he was going, too.

It should have been a two hour drive, but the traffic became horrible as they got closer and closer to the spaceport. John couldn't figure out how there could be that many Minbari within the radius the spaceport would serve, but as they made their final approach, he finally saw what was going on. Crowds were assembled everywhere, and they were cheering. Cheering. As they stopped at the curb and handed the cars over to a parking bot, one group was close enough that they could hear them. "Get off our fucking planet!" "Now you'll get what you deserve!" John took all of Delenn's bags; he was afraid she was going to be sick.

Inside, he expected the Minbari to cluster together for comfort, but instead, they all stood separate, as though to seek each other for safety would be the final indignity. There were dozens, maybe hundreds, of cops and security personnel trying to keep the peace, but the protesters-cum-partiers kept sneaking in. John kept his arm tight around Delenn. If he hadn't kept looking at her to make sure she was all right, he might have thought her to be made out of stone.

Once Delenn bought her ticket, the rest of them wouldn't be able to follow her any further into the spaceport. The human women were crying, even John's mother. He wouldn't let himself look at her. Instead he looked at Delenn, and she looked so much like she had the first time he saw her that it was almost like traveling through time. She was so small and fragile looking, with her pretty little robes and the big bone around her head; her face was chalk-white, unreadable.

They finally made their way to an agent. The man's face was exultant, and John had to dig his hands into his pockets to keep from punching him. "One ticket to Minbar," Delenn said, her voice almost too quiet to be heard.

"Really? I never would have guessed," the agent smirked, and from a great distance John heard his mother draw in a breath. He shook his head, still not looking at her; he didn't want security to haul them out if anything should go wrong, and if his mom started screaming at the ticket agent, that would definitely make things go wrong. "Destination?" the agent asked.

"Yedor." Delenn did not hand the man her credit chit, but instead laid it down on the counter. Her fingers trembled; John couldn't tell whether she was desperately fighting to keep from crying, or if she were absolutely furious. Maybe both.

John took a deep breath, then pulled his own credit chit out of his pocket and set it on the counter next to Delenn's. "Same destination," he said, proud that his voice didn't break. He was aware of Delenn's head jerking around to stare at him, and he was aware of the women behind him crying out, but for some reason he ended up just looking at the ticket agent. The man's smug smile was gone, and he stared at John in complete shock.

"What?" he croaked, as though his circuits had been blown.

"I'd also like a ticket to Yedor."

"John, no!" His mom's voice, quickly followed by her iron grip on his arm. She did her best to tug him back, but he dug his heels in. "What do you think you're doing?" she hissed. He could hear Lizzie behind him. "Mom? Johnny? Mom?"

"Do not sell that ticket," Miranda ordered the ticket agent, who had yet to pick up either chit. She grabbed John by the shoulder, and managed to make him face her. "Stop this, now. You're acting like a child."

"No," he told her, putting out a hand blindly. Delenn's hand was right there; he didn't need to see to find it. Her fingers were still trembling, but they stopped when he enfolded them with his own.

"You are not going to Minbar."

"Yes, I am. Book the flight," he said to the agent. He held the man's eyes with his own, and knew that he was a better, stronger man that this one, and that he would do what John told him to do. He had only felt like this once before, right after the White House bombing, when he had talked to the students over the loudspeaker. He felt as though there were nothing he couldn't do.

"This boy is a minor," his mom explained to the agent. John looked over - Judith and Lizzie had been moved away from the counter by two security officers. Lizzie was crying, staring at John with a dumbfounded look on her face. More security officers were coming their way. "I am his mother," she went on. "I am not allowing him to purchase this ticket."

"I'm seventeen years old, I can buy a spaceship ticket if I want. You can't stop me."

"John, I am not discussing this with you! You are not going to up and fly to Minbar. And do what? Have you even thought of what happens next?"

"I don't care."

"I will send your father after you on the next flight out. You are not going to throw your life away-"

"How can you say that?"

A portly security officer came up to them. "What's the problem, here?" she asked, hands on hips.

"There's no problem," John answered. "You may need to escort my son out," his mother said at the same time. And then Delenn was tugging on his hand, and when he looked back at her he saw that she was serene, her eyes clear and her face bright. Beautiful. She reached up and put a hand to the back of his neck, drawing his face down close to hers.

"John. This is not the time."

"Delenn..."

"You have school to finish. The Academy to attend. You cannot become a pilot if you do not graduate from the Academy."

"I don't care."

"You must think about your future, John. The things that are important to you."

"Nothing is more important to me than you."

Delenn studied his face then, locking her eyes with his in a way that no one else, not even his parents, was able to do. As though she were seeing more than just his face, but the very core of his being. "Two days ago, I felt the same despair that you are now feeling. But we were not brought together by coincidence. The universe knows what it's doing. We will see each other again."

John shook his head, even as he knew that it was over, all his ridiculous dreams and plans. He hadn't let himself say goodbye, had refused to consider it, and now the goodbye was upon him and he was completely unprepared. He dumbly watched as Delenn took her ticket, and as his mother retrieved his credit chit. Delenn led him away from the ticket counter, past the cluster of security officers and cops watching them closely, and toward the entrance to the main terminal. Twenty feet until he would have to say goodbye to Delenn and watch her leave, unable to follow. Fifteen feet. Ten.

Delenn stopped, and she started to hug him. John held her at arm's length. "Don't go," he begged.

"I must."

There was nothing else to say. He hugged her tight, the brooch made out of his class ring digging into his chest. He kissed her, and whatever she might say, he knew that this would be the last time he would ever kiss her. He didn't know what the future might bring, what might happen in five years, in ten, but he knew that if they did ever see each other again, they would be different people. They would never have this again.

Delenn was the one to end the kiss, and she was the one to let him go. She walked away, one last look back at him. Then she was gone. John stood there and watched anyway, some part of his brain stubbornly insisting she would be back in another ten seconds. Ten seconds would go by and he didn't see her, so he counted again, and again, and again. Finally, his mother came up and gently took him by the arm. He supposed she led him out of the spaceport and to their car; he wouldn't remember the journey the next day.

Driving back home, the sky black and overcast. No stars. Back on the interstate, and John saw a truck pass them - they honked and shouted and screamed. "Bye bye, bones!" painted on the windows. John made his mother pull over. He stumbled down into the ravine at the side of the road and threw up in the bushes.


	9. The Best Laid Plans

**The Best Laid Plans**

"So there we are, bottom of the ninth, down one, one out. McCarty's on second. I'm walking up from the on-deck circle – it's the place you wait and kinda warm up your swing before you bat – and I'm thinking, this is it. This is the moment every ball player waits for. Not just the game-winning hit – I've had those before – but a game-winning hit in a game that really means something. We win, we go on to the regional championship. We lose, we go home."

John paused, leaning forward, elbows on his knees. He didn't want to lay it on too thick, but he did want to draw the story out just a little bit.

"Now I know the pitcher. He's a real son of a bitch. One of those guys who'll aim right for your head if he thinks you're trying to crowd the zone. Normally I'd try to provoke someone like that, get them to pitch wild, but I didn't just want to get on base. I didn't even just want to advance the runner. I wanted to win the whole damned thing.

"First pitch goes right down the middle. I want to swing, but we're under strict orders to not swing on the first pitch. Next pitch is just a little high. Third pitch a little higher still. I make eye contact with McCarty on second. We're having a conversation, just with our eyes. He's saying, _you don't want to walk, Johnny. Hit the next pitch. _I'm saying, _let me worry about me – you just make sure you run all the way home_. It was like a vid or something. Anyway, here comes the next pitch, and I've got a read on this guy. I can tell by the way he looks over at his coach that he's going to try something. So just before he throws, I sort of straighten up a bit, turn my right shoulder in, and he ends up waffling the change-up he was going for. And holy _shit_ do I hit that ball. When you hit a ball just right, you can feel it in the bat, all the energy transferring in just the right way. I know this ball is gone.

"But it goes foul. Of course it goes foul. The next pitch is way inside – I have to jump back a little bit. So now it's a full count. And normally I would be getting nervous. I don't want to strike out, or foul out, or get a lousy walk. And then, hmm. It's hard to describe. It's almost like things start to happen in slow motion. As soon as the ball leaves his hand, I know I'm going to hit it, and I know just where it's going to go. I swing, and I'm already looking over to left field, and it's going to be fair. I start running, and I feel good for the first time since you left."

John stopped, that admission more than he'd been planning on making. He'd been pretending that he wasn't depressed, that he was sleeping just fine, that he didn't sometimes skip meals. Suddenly he wasn't having quite as much fun telling this story, and decided to wrap it up.

"The ball ends up being about ten feet shy of making it out of the park. The left-fielder hauls it down – I've gotta give the guy credit, it's a great catch. McCarty tags up and makes it to third, and the next batter up, Jonas, you remember him, he was the guy who threw up lasagna all over Mrs. Chu that one day, gets him home on a grounder that squeaks through into right. Jonas runs like the fragging devil's on his ass and manages to turn that sad little grounder into a triple. Then Clifford gets him home on a bunt. A bunt! The game-winning hit was a bunt! It went all of three feet. But we won, and we're going to regional champs."

John shrugged. He figured he should be more excited, or at least make her think that he was more excited, but he felt too tired to even try. "Anyway, that's it. I love you and I miss you." He ended the message as he had ended every single one previous. "See you soon."

John ended the recording, then quickly made sure it copied to the data crystal correctly before he erased it from his drive. He'd record one, maybe two more messages before he sent it off. Direct communication with Minbar and her colonies had been banned a month ago, even if he'd been able to afford it; the crystal would be sent to a friend of his father's on Centauri Prime, who would then forward it on to Minbar. Delenn's messages came the same way in reverse.

Or, at least, they had been. He didn't get a crystal from her last week, and he was trying to not get upset about it. Maybe she was busy. Maybe she was off-world, and didn't know she was going to be off-world until after she'd sent her last batch of messages to him. Maybe she just didn't know how important it was for him to be able to see her, to hear her voice, to know what she was doing. Maybe she didn't look forward to his messages like he looked forward to hers. He wasn't going to get mad at her. He was just going to hope that a crystal was coming his way even now.

xxx

"John. Did you sleep at all?" John looked up from his oatmeal to see his mother peering down at him. She didn't have much room to talk - there were dark circles under her eyes, and for the first time he noticed the network of fine lines that criss-crossed her face.

"I slept," he lied, shoveling the oatmeal in. Bland, because he didn't add any sugar. For awhile he'd been trying to use sugar and caffeine to keep him up, but he didn't like the way it made him feel. And he'd found just a little bit of sugar made him want it all the more. It was easier to just cut it entirely. Better to be tired, eat bland food, and just power through.

"There's no reason you can't take a year off. That was the plan." She poured herself a cup of coffee, and it smelled so good that John had to close his eyes. _You don't need it._

"I don't want to take a year off. We've discussed this."

"Just because Delenn—"

"No," he cut her off, voice flat. "I'm ready to start the Academy in the fall. That's it." Which of course was another lie. It had everything to do with Delenn, and they both knew it. Sometimes it was easier to ignore what you both knew, though.

"If you don't pass, you'll have an even harder time trying to get in next year."

"I'll pass."

"You've only been studying for two months."

John stood up, dumped his bowl in the sink with a loud clatter. "I'll pass." He grabbed his bag and left, not looking at his mother, not seeing the disappointment and worry on her face.

xxx

Miss Van Houton uploaded everyone's homework to their lecterns. They had five minutes left in class. Most everyone else sat around talking, chattering about this and that: who was dating whom, who was cheating on whom, who just broke up with whom. John blocked it all out and started on his homework. He was going to try and get it done before his next class started; five minutes now, and once he hurried to Intro to Art, four minutes of passing period. Intro to Art was basically a study hall these days, so he'd take five minutes to dash off whatever the assignment there was, and then he'd have fifty solid minutes to study. He was working on Military Tactics right now, which he'd read before, but it was different when you knew you were going to get tested on it.

He had his nose in his lectern walking through the hallways, which was why he ended up running right into Lindsay. She didn't look at all surprised, though, smiling up at him in a way she hadn't done in months and months.

"Sorry," he muttered, and tried to walk around her. But she slid over to stand in front of him again, blocking his path in the busy hallway.

"I haven't talked to you in a long time, Johnny," she said, toying with one of her locks of auburn hair. She might as well have been playing with a piece of yarn for all that he cared. He was so _tired_. Had he ever felt tired after missing just one night's sleep? Had such a time ever really existed? He hardly remembered a time when he wasn't tired.

"Yeah, busy," he said, trying to dodge around her again. But he was pretty slow these days, and she was deceptively quick, and before he knew it she was pressed up against him, her breasts soft and full and managing to brush his chest and both his arms at the same time. He remembered, dimly, across the gulf between adolescence and adulthood, that once such a sensation would have been enough to reduce him to a twitchy mass of fully-charged nerve endings. No more.

"Who are you and what have you done with John Sheridan?" she asked coyly.

"I've got to get to class," John said, closing his eyes for a second, hoping that when he opened them she would be gone.

"_Art _class, John," she snitted, and he opened his eyes with a sigh. Not only was Lindsay still staring up at him, mean good humor sparkling in her eyes, but other people had started to watch. He wasn't sure what kind of show they were expecting, but if he could feel the tension in the air, he supposed others could, too. "It's not as though you can't be a few minutes late to art class."

"What do you want?" Her eyes got a little wide at that, mock surprise that just made him angry.

"I just want to talk. Just a couple minutes, huh?" What he really wanted to do was shove her aside and keep moving, but too many people were watching now, and they'd all want to know why John Sheridan had been so mean to nice, sweet Lindsay. So he sighed and let her lead him down the hall to one of the language conversation labs, empty this hour. When the door snicked closed behind him, John realized he felt like a trapped animal. And here came the zookeeper, wearing a tight, short green dress that left little to the imagination. The brief craze of Minbari fashion had long-ago departed, and the girls were back to as teeny and tiny as they could get away with. He could see long, long legs and the tops of her soft, white breasts. A different part of John's brain, a part that sometimes thought about how nice it would be to run a deer down and kill it with his bare hands, perked up a little. John crossed his arms over his chest and resolutely shoved that part of his brain back down where it belonged.

"All right. I'm here, so start talking."

Lindsay glared at him before she could stop herself, then plastered a sickeningly-sweet smile on her face. "Prom's in three weeks."

"Oh my God," he droned out. Was she serious? _Prom?_

"Johnny, just hear me out. I know you're not interested in me like that. I get it. You're still hung up on your mystical alien princess."

"Hey, that's enough of that."

"What I'm saying is that I get it. But it's senior prom, John, and I don't want to miss it. And I don't think you want to miss it, either. It's important."

The truth was, John couldn't think of anything less important in the whole world. After everything that had happened this school year - and as much as he loved her, not even Delenn held that list all by herself - he could not imagine anyone thinking a school dance mattered at all. But Lindsay was the obvious exception that proved the rule. He couldn't detect any of the usual sarcasm and disdain on her face. Instead, she was gazing up at him with bright and pleading eyes.

"Even if I wanted to go to prom," he allowed, "the Academy entrance exam is the next Sunday after the dance. I'll be cramming that last week like nobody's business."

Lindsay saw her opening and pounced. "And that's all the more reason to go! You'll need a break by then. Three hours." She saw the look on his face. "Two hours! You don't even have to pick me up, we can just meet there. A couple dances, pictures, and then you can go home and read all about space battles and boring old treaties. And in thirty years, you can tell your kids you went to your senior prom."

John wanted to say no, he wanted to just tell her no and be done with it. The bell for the next class rang. The truth was, though, even though he didn't want to go, he knew it would mean a lot to his mom. She _still_ went on about how Dad hadn't asked her to go – he'd been planning to go off-world that summer, and had barely managed to graduate, to hear her tell the story. John knew that Mom would really go into overdrive when it was Liz's turn, when she had the chance to pick out dresses and shoes and all of that nonsense. But she'd still care about him going, and the thought of walking downstairs in a tux and seeing her at the foot holding up a camera was enough to make him slowly nod his head.

Lindsay jumped up and down, barely stifling a gleeful shriek. John held up a finger. "I reserve the right to bail out if things get too hairy. This is a conditional acceptance."

"Oh, thank you, John! I just couldn't imagine going with anyone else at this school, they're all just awful, a bunch of apes. You'll have fun, I promise you will." She thought about grabbing him, he could see it in her eyes, but she kept herself under control, only reaching out to squeeze his bicep. Then she spun away in a cloud of red hair.

_John, you sappy soft touch_. For all he said about ducking out if he needed to, he knew he'd end up going, because if he didn't now that he said he would, she'd be crushed. Maybe Lindsay was an evil teenage robot most of the time, but she had a heart in there somewhere, and John did not want breaking it to be on his conscience.

xxx

Dad wasn't home much, and when he was home, he was on the phone or in front of his vid screen most of the time. He was still trying to keep all of his work secret, probably because of some serious confidentiality agreement or something. So John had become quite adept at eavesdropping. Right now, Dad was in his office, in front of the secure-line screen. John was on his stomach in the upstairs bathroom, head resting against the air register on the ground, slowing his breathing down so it didn't fill his ears. He could just make out Dad's voice drifting up his way, one of the individual flukes of acoustics this house possessed that John had worked out long ago.

"I'm starting to think Nsedu wants a war," Dad was saying now. John couldn't hear whoever Dad was talking to, but he guessed it was Raul; he kept waiting for Mom to accuse them of having an affair, they spent so much time together. "Our hands are tied, though."

A cramp wormed its way into his thigh, but John refused to acknowledge it. Something in his dad's voice told him this was more than just idle talk. The hairs on his arms slowly rose, and his stomach felt funny.

"You would really go to Petrovich?" Dad's voice was low, so low that John could barely make it out. He pressed his ear more firmly into the vent. "Raul, that's...that's treason."

_Treason_. But Petrovich, the head of the Russian Federation, ultimately answered to President Nsedu, so he wasn't sure that it was treason so much as undermining the chain of authority. If the assassination hadn't happened, if the newly-installed North American governor weren't so weak, Harrison and Petrovich could have stood against Nsedu together. But Jennings was a spineless twerp, the perfect Lieutenant Governor, and he parroted back every single thing Nsedu said with a twinkle in his eye. China and the rest of East Asia were staunch Nsedu supporters, as well. The Middle East was still rebuilding, Africa and Australia had adopted a strict philosophy of neutrality. As long as the President was determined to provoke the Minbari, there seemed little to be done by anyone.

Dad clicked the connection off, and John could hear him somehow, even though he was just silently sitting in his office, no doubt with a long-forgotten cigar smoldering down to ash beside him. He would be thinking, his face taking on that far-off look that as a boy John had recognized as an intelligence so great that it was nearly impossible to measure. David Sheridan was a successful diplomat in part because most people didn't guess that that kind of intelligence existed inside his amiable, how-ya-doin' exterior. It was something that John wished he could emulate better.

John hobbled to his room, the cramp having decided to set up camp. What could Petrovich possibly do? Call for Nsedu's impeachment, which seemed unlikely, though if she kept Earth and her colonies hurtling down the path of war...

He sat at his desk, textbooks open in front of him, but he wasn't able to focus anymore that night.

xxx

"I miss hearing your voice, Delenn, and I miss seeing you. I hope everything's okay. You know, you can tell me anything. Anything at all."

John paused, and just thinking what he was thinking was enough to make his throat clench up, make his heart thud in his chest. A sudden superstition gripped him. If he said it, then it would be true, just because he said it. He knew the pause was stretching out, eating up valuable data space, but still he couldn't bring himself to speak.

But it was Delenn, and above all else, he wanted her to be happy. And he needed to know that she was okay, just needed to see her.

"If you've met someone else, I...I understand. You can tell me. I won't be angry. If that's why you haven't sent me a message in two weeks, I just..."

He trailed off again, rubbing his palm on his jeans so violently that it hurt. He felt sweaty and gross all of a sudden, like he'd just run a marathon.

"I just want you to know I'll wait for you, though. None of the other girls hold a candle to you, not at all. I'm not saying this because I want you to meet someone else to make me feel better for moving on, because I'm not going to move on. But if you do, it's okay. Because I love you, and I want you to be happy."

He sounded like a fucking greeting card.

"Just send me a message, please. Just one word. Just say hi, please."

John clicked the recorder off before he sounded any more desperate.

xxx

Each day ran into the next, each broken up into chunks of time he had to fight through. The alarm went off at 5:00 am. John was showered and dressed by 5:08, bed made, bag for school prepared. He studied for an hour and a half, and set himself an unrealistic goal each day, trying to push himself harder. He would read five chapters and take ten pages of notes; he would take a practice exam on his lectern and score an 18; he would set up a sim program to spit out a scenario and he would solve it with maximum efficiency and minimum loss of life.

He struggled through three chapters and came away with seven pages of notes; he scored a 15; he killed everyone on his ship and the refugees besides.

From 6:45 to 7:00 he would try to meditate. He lit a candle and sat on a mat and pretended that Delenn sat beside him. Every so often he would achieve a few moments of calm, but he was so aware of the tiny victory that he destroyed it just by thinking about it. He could not for the life of him reach that place of unthinking, of unknowing. There was an itch under his ear; a breeze on the back of his neck; a tickle in his nose; a cough in his throat; a buzz somewhere he couldn't stop listening to. He usually stood and blew out the candle some time around 6:55, then spent the next five minutes berating himself.

At 7:00 he forced himself to eat. He finished whatever homework he still had left. Why had he ever struggled with any of it? It was easy, easy and stupid and mostly useless, and he just had to think for ten seconds to dash off meaningless answers that would satisfy his teachers. He used to be so stupid, and he just hoped it wouldn't come back to bite him in the ass.

School. Lectures, assignments, projects, speeches. John was present for them, did everything well if not creatively, an object study in mediocrity that somehow looked like excellence in comparison to everyone else. Tactics and strategy and history on his lectern, and his other project besides, the project he had never told Delenn about. She would have poked holes in it, and she would have been right to do so, but still, it was something he had come to love, his stupid silly dream. It would never work, but it was nice to think about, on days like today, when the Senior English substitute gave up trying to teach and they all just watched ISN like a bunch of mute sheep.

"Satellite imagery confirms that some sort of development is taking place on the far-Northern tip of the archipelago Soo-yun, though the thick vegetation is making it difficult to determine just what that development is. Earth colony officials at New Corning tell ISN that the structures visible are not theirs, and a Minbari spokesperson could not be reached." The ISN reporter looked grave, and she turned to one of the so-called "experts," who opined in a thick Australian accent that the structures were likely "Minbari installations of a military nature."

No one in the classroom said anything, but there was an undercurrent of tension running through the air. The goodwill toward Minbari that had drawn the school together after the news of Harrison's assassination and the attack on Delenn had mostly dissipated, and though most people kept quiet – whether out of respect for John or because the teachers had been fairly ruthless about writing up anyone who acted out – he knew that a lot of people had swung around to the other side of the compass. Even now he could hear two people talking to each other in low voices in the back. "...sneak attack..." "...first strike..."

John grabbed the edges of his desk. _Don't turn around. Just stay out of it_. But then one of the two laughed, something low and dark and full of hatred, and as though he were hanging on puppet strings, no longer under his own control, John swung out of his seat and stood in one fluid motion.

"What was it you wanted to say, George?" He should have known from the start it was that sniveling little shit. George had slung his legs up over his desk, leaning back with arms crossed behind his head. John wanted to punch him forever.

"Everyone knows the Minbari are a bunch of cowards, hiding behind a bunch of doofs in gray robes, like it's Halloween or something. They keep trying to provoke us-"

"They're not the ones provoking anyone."

"-hoping to get us to take the first shot, and then get galactic opinion on their side."

John shook his head, overwhelmed by the stupidity. Distantly he heard the substitute asking him to sit down, but all he could see were the faces turned his way. Flat eyes, pursed mouths. Most of them agreed with George.

John waved his hand at the vid screen. "You all just think what they want you to think."

"It's our continent!" Missy Rogers bit out, her face as red as a brick. "They don't have any right!"

"That's not a Minbari installation there!"

"The New Corning officials said it wasn't theirs." That was from the substitute, who had taken one tiny step out from behind the desk, her shoulders hunched up as though she were expecting a blow.

"And you just believe them? Just like that?" John looked around the room. He saw the truth – they all did. They believed it just because the person on the screen said it. "The Minbari did not build those structures, I guarantee you that."

"Yeah, because you know so much about the Minbari," George sneered. "Just because you used to bang one." Gasps and whispers, and John was pretty sure the substitute shrieked like she'd just seen a mouse. He wasn't completely sure because he was shoving his way to the back of the room, ready to tear George out of the desk and beat him senseless.

xxx

John winced. "Hold still," his mom commanded, putting another butterfly bandage on the cut over his eye, the one blow George had managed before the other students in the classroom had pulled the two of them apart. He'd refused to see the nurse, and since it was his second incident this year, Sumalong's hands were tied: out-of-school suspension this time. John thought that sounded just fine. What was another incident on his record? "Won't you look good for tonight," Miranda went on.

"What's tonight?" he asked, taking the ice pack she handed him and pressing it against the side of his face.

"John," she said, giving him her very best Mom Look. "Your presentation? At the station?"

"Shit!" He'd completely forgotten about it. He hadn't even _thought_ about it in weeks. "Shit. There's no way I can do it."

"No, sir. You will not back out now. You made a commitment, and you will follow through."

"But I don't have anything prepared!"

"I'm sure you'll manage."

It was with leaden feet that John trudged up to his room, and he checked the calendar on his lectern. It was right there, in bold print: 7:00 pm, Students For Peace. He had signed up months ago, agreeing to make a short (10-15 minute) speech (visual aids appreciated) about the need to find a peaceful resolution to the Minbari-Earth conflict (professional dress, please come prepared).

And he had nothing. Every time he wracked his brain trying to think of a peaceful solution, it mostly came down to sending President Nsedu a letter that said _please stop being a dick_. He certainly didn't have any visual aids.

Dad was off-world and couldn't be reached, and Mom ignored all his protests and drove him over to the local vid station, where he would sit in front of a camera and record his portion – live. There were a couple monitors in front of him showing the other students sitting down and getting ready. The entire thing would be assembled as though they were all sitting in the same room together, having a discussion about the issues. He knew a few of their names, having had conversations with some of them, most of those a few months in the past; it had been awhile since he'd pretty much given up on the idea that he personally could do a thing. Rhea Sims, Park Jae-Sun, Jeff Sinclair, Lisbeth Reynolds, Dustin McCloud, Grant Budjmilia – bright, dedicated young men and women who still believed they could make a difference.

Sinclair went first, the youngest of the group as a high school freshman. John decided that the kid probably got beat up on a daily basis – he was without a doubt the nerdiest looking creature he had ever seen. He wasn't that great at public speaking, either, but he was smart as hell and knew what he was talking about. "EarthGov is too stubborn to admit that the bulk of the problem results from our planet's imperialistic history, an impulse to own at any cost, an impulse that we have yet to cull from our culture." The kid spoke in a monotone that told John he had written the speech out and then memorized it word for word.

The others followed, and though their presentations on the face of it seemed different – this one had uploaded an old-school slide show to be played alongside her speech, that one did some kind of magic trick as a way to demonstrate...something – the actual points of their speeches were all the same. Earth needed to chill out. Earth needed to give ground. Earth needed to give in.

John had hoped by switching with Reynolds to go last that he would have enough time to come up with something, but when the light on his camera turned green he still didn't have a clue what he was going to say. He just knew it had to be something different.

He smiled at the camera, introducing himself, buying time. He could see everyone's faces in the monitors around him, studying him: expectant, waiting. A moment of panic beat inside his chest. John let himself pretend that Delenn was standing just beyond the camera, hidden in the glare of the lights. She was proud of him, and no matter what he said, it would be something, some small flame fighting against the encroaching dark.

"It's all well and good to say that Earth should do this, Minbar should do that. I don't think we've moved past the point of no return yet, but it should have never come to this in the first place." John thought of his project, the dumb thing he'd been working on since before Delenn had even been deported. It was just an idea, but at least it was _something_, something practical and not just more high-minded rhetoric.

"The problems we face stay the same. Fights over land, over resources. Not out of any sense of need, but because I think it's the nature of more than just humans to see something and want it, and think that because you saw it first it somehow belongs to you. How can we resolve these problems? Besides evolve into better people? I don't know. What I do know is that we need a better method, so that maybe things won't get this bad in the future.

"We need a place. Somewhere that representatives from different species can meet, somewhere neutral. A space station, maybe, a place where we can work this...sorry, there's no other way to put it, but a place where we can work this shit out before people get hurt."

Shock on the faces on the monitor. Poor Jeff Sinclair looked like he was going to have an embolism. "Maybe that's what we can do with Orion 7. Isn't that what we're fighting about? Those stupid mines around the equator? Instead of processing the ore for vid screens and lectern parts, let's use it for something that would really benefit all of us. And if we had to work together to build something, then maybe we'd learn more about each other." A thousand ideas suddenly showed up, all scrambling around in his head, but John knew if he kept going he'd just start rambling and what-ifing. As it was, he had no idea how long he'd been talking, but the camera light was still green.

"We should do something, whatever it is. Otherwise we're going to start killing each other, and it won't just be hundreds or thousands, not like wars in the past. It'll be millions. Billions, maybe. Billions, and for what? For some land. Is it really worth it? I don't think so."

He remembered Delenn, that last real sight of her, as she turned and headed into the spaceport, almost four months in the past. And now it had been almost three weeks since the last time he had heard from her. John shook his head, staring at his hands.

"I don't think so."

xxx

The best he had been able to manage on any of his Academy practice exams was a 16. The minimum score for acceptance was 14, and 18 was recommended. 22 was perfect, which he knew he'd never get close to, but 16? Was 16 really the best he could do?

Suddenly, though, it seemed as though he didn't have the time to worry about the Academy entrance exam anymore. It turned out that more people had been watching the broadcast that night than he would have guessed. The local news station, which had spent an embarrassing three nights reporting on "his great loss" after Delenn had been deported, having been very sympathetic to the both of them ever since Maria Delgado, née Maria Something, had interviewed the two of them on the football field on the day of Harrison's assassination, suddenly remembered their resident hometown hero of sorts. The fight with George turned out to be a good thing after all - John thanked all the deities mankind had ever worshiped that he had three days away from school. Hopefully the media coverage of "high school student John Sheridan's bold vision of a peaceful future" would blow over by the time he returned. He'd also been contacted by a dozen different organizations in the week since the Students for Peace broadcast. A couple he dismissed immediately as cranks, three people in a basement who made up a name and a link and pretended they were something special. A few were willing to take his idea and all the credit and give him nothing in return. The rest voiced their support and invited him to take part in various conferences scheduled over the next few months. As much as he wanted to decline every invitation, because he needed to study, he needed to get into the Academy, hell, he'd like five minutes here or there to play some baseball, he just couldn't say no. He kept thinking of the imaginary Delenn he'd conjured, standing behind the cameras, smiling at him with pride. He couldn't let her down.

One of the organizations, Friends of the Minbari, was actually based here in town, and on the last day of his suspension John drove over to their headquarters. He didn't have an eidetic memory or anything close, or he'd be scoring a 21 on the entrance exam no problem, but something about the street address seemed very familiar. When he entered the used bookstore, a pretty sloe-eyed girl directed him to stairs in the back, closed off from the shop by a red curtain. Déjà vu gripped him tightly, and though he knew he had never been in this bookstore before, and certainly had never walked down these stairs, for some reason he knew exactly what he would find at the bottom.

The basement room was far larger than the shop upstairs, likely taking up the space beneath the whole row of stores this side of the block. There was a pretty sophisticated data crystal loader – maybe an industrial cast-off. Two young women, not much older than he was, were loading blanks into the rows and rows of slots. He wondered what message they were recording, and to whom they'd be shipping off all those crystals. Off-world? Through back channels to Minbar? The young women turned at his approach and smiled, though they didn't pause in their task long enough to wave.

Aside from the loader, there were tables set up in rows, a small recording studio in the back, and shelves of real books. Since no one else seemed around to welcome him, John wandered over and perused. None of the titles seemed familiar. Quite a few of them looked like religious texts, but there were just as many that dealt with secular philosophy. Boring, most like, but he could see how they'd appeal to the kind of person likely to join the Friends of the Minbari.

He heard footsteps coming up behind him. "Ah, young master Sheridan." John turned - an elderly woman with brilliant silver hair stood with clasped hands, smiling at him with a look he could only describe as beneficent. Suddenly everything clicked into place.

"The French restaurant," he said.

"Yes. They refused to serve your lovely young paramour, and you implored all of us diners to leave, lest we implicitly support the establishment's bigotry."

"This was the address you gave us." He wondered where that slip of paper had went to. By the end of that night – the simulated flight through the galaxy, giving Delenn the class ring brooch, and finally her return to his house, when she introduced him to the _shan'fal_ - he had completely forgotten about the incident at the French restaurant. "You were all here, even back then?"

"We were. The pot may have boiled over after the assassination, but it had been simmering for longer than perhaps you realize. It's good to finally see you. Your impromptu speech that night at the restaurant made quite an impression on my husband and me."

For some reason the praise embarrassed John, even as he felt guilty for having never responded to the couple's invitation. At least he was here now.

Half an hour later he was sitting at one of the long tables with the woman, Marguerite, her husband Luis, and a dozen other members of the group. One of the young women, the one who was nearly as tall as he was, whose name was Esme, had run out and picked up sandwiches and lemonades from the bistro down the street. "I picked you up an extra sandwich, Mr. Sher- um, I mean...um. John." Esme was staring at the ground and presumably through the Earth straight through to China. Her cheeks were so bright red they looked irradiated. John was no stranger to crushes, so he kept his voice level and smiled warmly but impersonally. "Thanks."

"You recognized the crystal loader?" Luis asked, though it wasn't really a question.

"Yeah. Quite the operation you've got going on here."

"Everything's licensed," Luis said, as though John had implied otherwise. "It has to be. We've had EF thugs nosing around half a dozen times since the assassination. They would burn all of this to the ground if they had the chance."

"So what messages are you sending out?" John started in on his second sandwich. He hadn't realized how long it had been since he'd eaten anything decent, since he'd even had the appetite.

"Propaganda," Marguerite replied shortly. She must have felt it to be self-evident. "Requests for donations from philanthropists and organizations known or believed to be sympathetic. Messages to those deported Minbari from the loved ones left behind." John must have made a face, because Marguerite shook her head at him, almost derisively. "Did you think you were the only Human to meet and fall in love with a Minbari? Most don't have your diplomatic ties – or, I should say, your _father's_ diplomatic ties – to get their messages past the EF info-cordon." Again John felt embarrassed, as though he were somehow a big cheater and they were all onto him.

"We saw your speech," Esme blurted out, but this time she managed to look him in the eye. She had the most remarkable bright-blue eyes, and John noticed for the first time how pretty she was. "And we thought-" She cut herself off, glancing up at Marguerite like an unruly child who had spoken out of turn.

"We had hoped to send that recording out with our next batch of messages. With your permission, of course."

John blinked. "Of course."

Now Luis leaned forward, eyes intensely focused on John in a way that made him want to squirm. "The Grey Council wants a solution to this problem." His tone left no doubt in John's mind that Luis wasn't guessing. He knew exactly what he was talking about, and knew it for a fact. "At the same time, they are a stubborn group. The Minbari are one of the older races. The idea that they should be expected to reach an accord with the Humans by giving more ground than Earth is insulting to the Council. Nsedu has dug in her heels – she will not budge. The Council likewise will not simply turn over Orion 7 to her in full, which is of course her main goal. If push comes to shove, they _will_ go to war. To do otherwise would open the door for the Centauri, the Narn, the Gaim, and any other species looking to expand to think they could do so right into Minbari space." Luis paused, more for effect than for a need to breathe. "And if the Minbari go to war, Earth will lose far more than just her colony on Orion 7..."

John swallowed hard, feeling cold. A dead silence fell over the room. "But they want a solution," he finally said.

"Yes."

John shook his head, pushed the rest of the sandwich away, feeling ill. The solution wasn't going to be some stupid space station. They were all making fun of him, they had to be. It's not like he was the first person to ever think of a space station. Maybe as a project that multiple species all worked together on, okay, but still. He wasn't discovering hyperspace here.

Still, they were all looking at him with expectant eyes, the way his classmates had looked at him that day on the football field. Everyone waiting for John to tell them what to do. "We will want to send out a message close on the heels of the first, with more details. Practical considerations, rather than just a big idea. Will you be the face of this, John?"

What else could he say?

xxx

"John, wait!" He turned – Esme had followed him outside, and ran to catch up. John knew what was coming, and steeled himself against it. "Can I walk you to your car?"

"I kind of wanted some time to think," he said, trying to say it gently.

"I'm great to bounce ideas off of!" The face turned to his was bright, interested, and wholly focused on his own. For a second or two, John let himself admire those bright-blue eyes, the thick, black eyebrows, the pink rosebud mouth. He let himself think how nice it would be to walk arm in arm with this pretty girl. No one would even look at them, except to say to themselves, _what a handsome couple_. They wouldn't be turned away at restaurants. They would never hear snide comments muttered in their direction as they passed by. And she would be here, of course, and not countless light years away.

Esme's smile faded as he studied her. She didn't know what he was thinking, that much was obvious. Had he thought her pretty? She was beautiful. John felt a dull ache somewhere under his sternum. It would be so easy to grin at her now, to see an answering light in her eyes. So easy to nod and start talking, and halfway down the block reach down to take her hand. So easy.

"Not today," he said, his voice flat. Her eyes flashed - with hurt or anger, he couldn't tell. "I'm sorry," he amended quickly, meaning it. "Today's just...not a good day."

He left her then, hurrying back to his car. By the time he sat behind the wheel, his palms were sweating.

xxx

The crack of the bat brought him back to Earth. John looked up to the sky, but there was no way he was going to be able to pick out the flight of the ball now, with the glare of the sun to contend with. Maybe if he had been paying attention in the first place, he could have tracked the pop-up straight into his glove. As it was, he ended up just sort of running around aimlessly, and the ball hit the dirt a good five feet in front of him.

"For Christ's sake, Sheridan!" He'd had a respite from Coach K during basketball season, when she helmed the girl's volleyball team, but now she was back, meaner and louder than ever. "You look like a chicken with its damned head cut off out there. Take a lap."

"Sorry, Coach," he said by rote. He'd probably said it a dozen times since practice had begun. John tossed his mitt to J.P. and took off, meaning to use the lap exactly as Coach K no doubt intended - to get his head back in the game.

He'd been thinking about Esme. Not in a romantic way, not even in an interested way. He'd been thinking about her, and about Lindsay, too, for that matter, and wondering what was wrong with either of them. Attractive women, each in her own way. Bright, charismatic. Certainly interested in him. So why didn't he feel anything for them? Why did he look at them and be able to recognize they were beautiful, but just not care? The answer was, there was nothing wrong with them. There was something wrong with _him_. It was all well and good to have fallen in love with Delenn - he would never regret that, not for as long as he lived - but was it normal to not be attracted to Human girls anymore? It didn't seem normal. He felt oddly like a...sexual deviant or something. Just last week a man in Mexico City had been arrested when a routine search at the spaceport had uncovered thousands of hours of Minbari porn on his crystal drive. The official charge had been "seditious and treasonous behavior," implying that he was a spy and the porn was a cover, basically, but everyone knew the truth. Here was a guy who was sexually attracted to Minbari, likely in contact with others who were similarly attracted. And he had been arrested for it, and was even now languishing in jail. What about John, who'd actually had sex with a Minbari? Their relationship hadn't exactly been a secret. What must everyone think of him?

John rounded the last turn and headed for the dugout. He kept an eye on the faces of his teammates. They'd been playing together, most of them, for over ten years. This season had been their finest ever, and they were one game away from the state championship. By this point, they weren't just a team, they were practically a single player, one man in fourteen different bodies. As he returned from his lap, he should have been greeted by taunts and catcalls. He should have had a sound slap or two on the ass, maybe a shoulder punch. Instead, he got a weak smile from McCarty and a cold shoulder from everyone else. Had this been happening for weeks and he just hadn't noticed before?

He was painfully aware of how alone he was, sitting on the bench with the rest of the team as they listened to Coach K berate them for wasting her time. Her eyes never landed on his, instead sliding over his face as though he were just an empty space between McCarty and Clifford.

John packed up his gear after practice, taking his time. He dragged it out, just wondering what would happen. No one stuck around to walk back with him to the locker room. By the time he reached his car after stowing his gear in his locker, the lot was empty. He might as well not have been there at all.

xxx

A week before the senior prom, the team played in the State Championship game. They went to extra innings, and finally won 4-3 in the thirteenth, on a sacrifice fly to left. John had been in the warm-up circle at the time, and he watched the graceful arc the ball made, glad that he hadn't been the one at bat. He wouldn't have been able to stand everyone pretending to be happy for him. It was better to just hang back, smiling and cheering even though he was mostly ignored, celebrating the team he no longer felt a part of from a safe distance.

Almost a year to the day earlier, EarthForce black ops had been in the middle of tunneling from the New Corning mine on Orion 7 north, toward the archipeligo of Soo-yun. Later, they would not be able to determine what had gone wrong. The wrong charge had been calculated, perhaps, or the density of the rock above was greater than they'd suspected. In any event, the bulk of the mine had collapsed, killing every single one of the black ops team, who had been registered as Earth colonists, average miners out to make a fresh start. EarthGov immediately blamed the Minbari, accusing them of sabotage. And so the tensions began.

Now, a year later, as John's team was buying ice cream to celebrate the victory, a second black ops team completed the final weapons installation in the Potemkin village in Soo-yun. The new tunnel stretched almost eight hundred kilometers, from the secondary city of Ancyrilla to the far northern tip of the continent. There the concrete shells stood waiting. They would appear, from satellite imagery, to be a new Earth colony city. Nsedu would announce that the construction had been kept secret, since the city stood so close to the polar island, where the Minbari colony was located; EarthGov had not wanted to deceive anyone, but with relations between the species as they were...

And no one, not even the vast majority of the colonists on Orion 7, knew what was trundling up the tunnel to the edge of the narrow strait between the land masses. Only twenty-six kilometers separated the Minbari from the fake village. The Minbari wouldn't have time to finish processing the data before the bombs were falling on their heads.

xxx

Six days before prom, John recorded two messages. One was for the Friends of the Minbari. In it, he explained in greater detail his idea for a space station to be shared among all the various species in the galaxy. He used all his notes, even the ones that weren't much more than scribbles on random pieces of paper. He was keenly aware of the faces behind the camera, but most especially that of Esme, smiling at him proudly. It was the expression his imaginary Delenn had worn, that night at the station.

When he went home, John recorded the second message. "It's been a month, Delenn," he said, unable to keep his voice free from anger. There was bile in the back of his throat. "A _month_. I can't believe, after everything we went through, that you would just drop me, just like that. That you wouldn't even say goodbye. I could have understood it if you'd never sent me a message at all, if you had decided after you went home that you had to just move on with your life, but after three months of sending messages back and forth you just stop one day? I can't believe you would do something like that to me. I never would have guessed you to be capable of hurting me like this."

John shook his head, wanting to tell her he was taking a girl to prom this weekend. Not just any girl, but _Lindsay_. He wanted to hurt her, wanted to slide the knife under her skin, wanted her to lay awake at night, torn up by grief and anger. He wanted to scream. He wanted her in front of him right at that moment, to shake, to accuse, to ignore, as she had done to him.

He turned the recording off and shoved the crystal into his sock drawer. He wasn't planning on sending it, but he wasn't going to delete it, either. John flung himself onto his bed, facing the window, too upset to read or eat or sleep or do anything but glare at the darkness. He didn't see his sister, standing in the hall, peeking through the crack of his barely-ajar door. She held a crystal of her own. Like she had for three weeks, Lizzie could not work up the nerve to give it to him.

xxx

Five days before prom, a shuttle landed at Ancyrilla's spaceport. The manifest would show that it carried one hundred and eighty-two crates of fertilized bioengineered soil, to be spread in the fields outside the city. The crates actually held one hundred and eighty-two dead bodies. Men and women who had signed up to leave Earth for good, who wanted a fresh start on a colony, to carve out new lives for themselves. Nsedu had ordered their deaths to be quick and painless - she was no monster.

The crates were taken to the tunnel, and driven north.

xxx

Four days before prom, John went tuxedo shopping. Dad was home on a two-day furlough, before he was off again, this time to a meeting of some of the smaller worlds, afraid that they might end up caught in the middle of what now seemed to be the inevitable Earth-Minbari war. "I can talk to my boss if you want," he said to John, as they walked through the store. "Maybe bump the meeting back, or send Raul in my place. See you go to prom."

"Dad."

"You sure you don't want me there?"

John just looked at him, and thankfully, he seemed to get the point. John knew that he wouldn't want to sit around for two extra days anyway, just to see him in a tux before he walked out the door.

"And you don't just want to wear my old tux?" Dad asked, not betraying himself with even the slightest twinkle in his eye.

"Dad!" The tux in question was the one he'd worn to his wedding. It was horribly out of fashion, narrow and black - black! he looked like an undertaker in it - with straight legs. "I don't know, son," David said, "you might be able to bring it back into style."

"I doubt that." They stopped in front of a mannequin wearing a cream colored tuxedo with a lilac vest and cummerbund. The kerchief tucked into the front pocket was a darker purple. "What do you think of this one?" John asked.

"You kids today," was all that David said. He wouldn't get outright approval on anything he picked out, he knew. Dad was pretty cool most of the time, but he had no style to speak of. John understood that it was hard to keep changing as the years went by, but some of the stuff his dad wore...it was like, did he ever _look_ outside?

He finally settled on the cream tux, but with a powder blue vest and darker blue cummerbund and kerchief. The owner of the shop had pushed him hard to buy a hat as well, and brand-new shoes, but David had worked them adroitly out of that situation with nary a blink of his eye. They walked back to the car under a sunny sky. It was a bit breezy, and John noticed for the first time that when the wind caught his dad's hair, it blew back easily. It was thinning out on top, and it was grayer than he remembered. John concentrated on watching his feet, fighting down a shiver.

"So this girl you're going with..."

"Lindsay."

"You, uh, serious about her?"

Maybe a week ago John would have smarted off something mean, but he'd been thinking about her quite a bit, ever since he'd met Esme. The truth was, he'd gone to school with Lindsay for years and years; he had moved to the district in second grade, and she'd already been here. They might not always have been friends, per se, but they had always run in the same circles, and he usually got along with her pretty well. Things had been weird when Delenn had been here, but it was hard to blame Lindsay for that. He knew now that she liked him a lot, more than she would probably admit to. It would have been hard for her to see him take up with another girl, let alone an alien one. Maybe she hadn't always handled it in the best way, but she was a teenager. What teenager handled this kind of thing well?

"She's okay," John said cautiously. "I think the prom's really important to her, so I want her to have a good time."

"Well, um," David said, eyes scanning the street beside the lot. They had reached the car, but David just stood there, bouncing his keys in his hand, not making eye contact with John. "Well, you just be sure that you. John, that you. Be careful. Is what I'm saying."

_Oh, Dad_, John thought with an internal smile. He wondered if his old man had ever suspected he was giving it to Delenn. Probably not. At least he wouldn't have had to worry about an oopsie grandkid. The thought sobered John, and he felt his usual melancholia settle back over him, like a warm, faintly-cloying blanket. "I don't think of Lindsay like that. No reason to worry." They got into the car, and John realized he was a bit offended. Had he ever said that he and Delenn were quits? Why would Dad just assume that he was ready to move on with another girl? Surely they thought better of him than that.

By the time they made it home, John was halfway-convinced that he needed to phone Lindsay right away. _Change of plans. I can't go with you to prom. I'm still in love, completely in love, and it would be wrong of me to go to the dance with you. It would be like going out on a date. It is a date. And that would be cheating, and I can't do that_. But then Mom and Lizzie were cooing over his tux, and making him try it on, and he couldn't bring himself to pick up the phone.

xxx

Three days before prom, a shuttle left Minbar. It carried three passengers, besides its small crew. The man who sat on the bridge was unhappy, but it was his duty to accompany his aide. He was also worried, and nervous, and anxious, and angry, and tired.

It was a dizzying mix of emotions, and the man had a difficult time sorting through them. He gave instructions to the crew, then retreated to a private room in the back of the shuttle. There the man attempted to meditate, but it was difficult to focus.

His aide joined him after a few hours. The man would have snapped at anyone else daring to disturb his peace, but he could not yell at her, this young, yet brilliant, acolyte. The sight of her still took him aback, but the man thought he was getting better at hiding his reaction. She, of course, was too polite to let on that she noticed anything.

"Why do you worry, Master?" she asked, eyes pointed reverentially downward. The man gestured to the pillow beside him, and after a moment's hesitation, the acolyte joined him.

"The Humans might destroy us long before we reach our destination. They may not listen to us. They may refuse to see you." These were all concerns they had discussed a hundred times before, in the nearly interminable last two weeks. The man looked at her face, in so many respects the same face he had remembered from before her initial departure, and yet still so changed. There was a moment of the old xenophobic fear, but the man pushed it aside and refused to give it another thought.

"We know these things," the acolyte said. She was all calm and tranquility, a serenity on her face unlike anything the man had ever seen before. She utterly believed in the rightness of her path, which more than anything was what convinced the man to accompany her in the first place. He only hoped they were not traveling to their deaths.

xxx

Two days before prom, the sirens went off. "Are they serious?" McCarty said loudly, and the other students either laughed or grimaced. "We've only got a week left!"

"To the door, line up," Miss Van Houton said briskly. She held out her lectern at the front of the line. "Thumbs as you go, get moving."

The line filed out, everyone putting their thumb to the screen as they went, the first checkpoint. They would do the same as they entered the basement, confirming that no one had been left behind. This was easily the tenth time they had done this drill in the past month, and it was becoming tiresome, even though they all welcomed the break from class.

Down to the basement, to the long corridors that twined through the earth. The school had been built during the Long Winter which had only ended almost forty years ago, and the town was riddled with tunnels like this, a way for people to go to and fro without having to venture outside into the cold. Thankfully, Miss Van Houton's classroom had been on the first floor, so they were among the first to enter the tunnel. "We don't have to stick our faces in anyone else's ass," McCarty smirked as he and John got to their knees, crouching forward and facing the wall.

"Quiet!" There was no talking during the drill. At least, there wasn't supposed to be - a distinct murmur filled the corridor, as everyone whispered to their neighbor.

"We rented a couple rooms at the Hilton outside town," McCarty confided. "You gonna bring Lindsay over after?"

"No." John's back already hurt from ducking over. It was likely to be another fifteen minutes of this. Did anyone really think that if the Minbari attacked, cowering in the basement would save anyone?

"You just gonna take her into the back of your car, then?" McCarty's voice was filled with faint, if somehow admiring, amusement.

"I'm not going to have sex with her," John hissed, perhaps a little louder than he intended.

"Then why are you even going with her, man?"

"Just shut up." John locked his fingers more securely around the back of his neck and closed his eyes, trying to retreat within. Nick expected him to have sex with Lindsay. His dad expected him to have sex with Lindsay. Did Lindsay expect him to have sex with Lindsay? It was something that was just now occurring to him, and John didn't like where the thought was taking him.

The truth was, he wasn't so sure about his willpower. He was lonely and tired, and Lindsay was gorgeous, and he wish he knew that he'd be able to say no if she propositioned him someplace, if she surprised him with a kiss, if she pressed her body against his. John wished he had that much faith in himself, but he just wasn't sure.

By the time the drill ended and everyone filed back upstairs, it was nearly the end of the day. Sumalong called it early, sending everyone home. John drove without once knowing where on the road he was, sense memory guiding him safely to his doorstep. He flung his bag on the floor inside the front door and then flung his body with equal force onto the couch. He was going to just lay here for a few minutes, then he was going to shove a peanut butter sandwich into his mouth, and then he was going to take yet another practice test. Last night he had finally managed an 18, which made him think he was going to pull this off after all. He had a theory that he needed to skip all of the questions on ethics first, get history and tactics out of the way, so he could take his time on the former.

But first, he was going to just lay here. Five minutes to do nothing, to think of nothing, to feel nothing. John wished he could just pull his emotions out completely, a cable he could unhook and then that would be that. It would make everything so much simpler.

He sighed, and before he knew it, tears threatened to overwhelm him. He had no idea where they'd come from. John put a hand over his face, willing the stupid tears to go right back where they'd come from.

"John?" a quiet voice called out. John rubbed fiercely at his eyes and sat up. Lizzie stood a few feet away, visibly trembling from head to toe. She held something in her hands.

"I'm just tired, Liz," he said, but that didn't take away the nearly-terrified look on her face. John looked closer. She was holding a data crystal.

"The package just said Sheridan," she said, her voice wan and barely audible. "I thought she'd sent a message to all of us. I'm sorry I never gave it to you...I..."

John was up, something white-hot and ugly pounding through his veins. "You...you..." he sputtered, a hundred obscene and horrible things crowding in his brain. He snatched the crystal away from his sister, ignoring the way she cried out in pain. "Fuck!" he finally choked out, running to the stairs, needing to get into his room immediately.

"I'm sorry, Johnny!" she called out, distantly, but John ignored her. He would deal with her later. He locked his bedroom door and shoved the crystal into the screen with shaking fingers. How long had Lizzie had this? Why hadn't she given it to him before now? As he waited for the message to load, he wondered what Lizzie had seen. This was the last message that Delenn had sent him, obviously.

Had she broken up with him, weeks ago? Was that what Lizzie had been trying to hide from him?

The message was ready. John waited to give the command for the vid to play. If he just didn't play it, if he never watched it, then it would be as if it never happened. He could just tell himself that she was busy, that she was going to record him another message, that everything would be okay.

His mouth was so dry that at first he didn't make a sound when he tried to speak. John swallowed painfully, and tried again. "Play message."

Delenn recorded all of her messages in the same place: a garden, equal parts rock and foliage, with only a very few flower blooms here and there. It was a beautiful place, and John wondered if it was the garden behind her house, or perhaps her temple. She never said. The first thing he noticed was that there was no garden. He was looking at a wall, made up of flat facets of varying heights and widths. It looked like one big crystal, cut and polished to bring out the most beauty and light. Only after John registered that he was looking at a different location did he realize that he was looking at a different Minbari.

The person standing in front of the crystal wall was not Delenn. It was a man, and though there was nothing in the frame to indicate scale, John could tell that the man was very tall. He was an imposing figure, his bone crest significantly thicker than most John had seen. Most astonishingly, the Minbari had a _goatee_. A neatly-trimmed, iron-gray goatee. John didn't even know that Minbari could grow hair at all, but before he could wonder about it, the man began to speak.

"This is a message for John, of the clan Sheridan." The man's voice was deep and gravelly, and his accent was almost identical to Delenn's. John found himself standing up a little straighter, even as a rumble of fear worked its way through his gut. The man continued. "My name is Dukhat. Upon Delenn's return to Minbar, she entered my service as an acolyte. It is difficult to explain how this relationship works to a non-Minbari."

John felt like hurtling through the screen and punching this tall, bearded Minbari right in the face. He had a _relationship_ with Delenn? He had to be at least twenty years older than she was!

"Delenn is my aide. She performs duties on my behalf, and learns at my side. In return, I owe her my protection. I was unaware until recently the frequency of your communication with her."

The Minbari said it as though the communication was one-sided. Delenn had sent just as many messages to John, maybe even more, before her messages had abruptly come to a stop a month ago. There had been one, sent about six weeks after her deportation, that John had probably watched a hundred times. He had watched it just two days ago, as a matter of fact. _I miss you so much I feel that I must break into pieces_, she confided in a breathy whisper that went straight to his groin. _I think about you constantly. John, we will be together again. I promise you that._

The tall Minbari man went on. "Delenn is back with her people. This is where her life is, and where it shall remain. Any further messages sent by you will be confiscated. I will not allow you to fill her head with nonsense. I will not speak to you of this again."

A cold rage worked its way through John's body. All the messages he'd sent over the last month, his promises of love and devotion, his hopes and fears, every word he had said to Delenn, they had all been interdicted by this tall Minbari son of a bitch. He became suddenly sure that he had told Delenn nothing of this, that he had confiscated her messages just as neatly, leaving her to believe that it had been John who gave up on her, John who had moved on abruptly, with no warning.

The Minbari looked as though he might say something else, but instead he picked something up from the bench beside him. A robe, which he slung over his broad shoulders, drawing it around his body.

A gray robe.

In that moment, as Dukhat of the Grey Council nodded curtly at the recorder and terminated the message, John felt nothing but despair.

xxx

One day before prom.

A shuttle came through the Io jump gate. A Minbari shuttle. Alarms went off, defenses were readied, and ultraviolet comm channels to Geneva were opened. The shuttle docked at the Europan spaceport, a full compliment of Furies as escort, guns locked and loaded.

The three passengers were met by an almost overwhelmingly-hostile reception. A squad of Marines stood at the ready, at the base of the shuttle's lowered gangway. When the man and his aide descended, they aimed their weapons. When the acolyte walked down, her white robe fluttering gently in the breeze, the Marines looked at each other, confused. She had drawn the hood up over her head, her face entirely obscured. The Minbari were taken to a wardroom, where they were left for a full hour with no word of what was happening.

The Earth president appeared on the comm screen. She was grave, furious, and, though she would never admit it to anyone, deeply terrified.

The Minbari made their offer. It was simple, straight-forward. The president told them she would have to consult with the Senate, though she already knew the offer would be accepted.

The youngest of the Minbari, a slender female acolyte, stepped forward. The president wondered if perhaps she were disfigured, and that was why she had her face hidden. Then the acolyte drew back her hood.

The president's arms fell limp to her sides. Her hand knocked over the mug on her desk, spilling lukewarm tea over the surface of her desk. She did not notice.


	10. Back Home

Later Delenn would remember very little of the return journey home. Her berth was even smaller and more cramped than the one she had taken on her initial voyage to Earth. She shared it with a family this time as well, two Minbari only a few years older than she was, along with their infant child. Once the ship was past the Io jump gate, Earth did not allow them to use any gate owned or maintained by EarthGov, so they took a long, circuitous route back to Minbar. Delenn lay on her narrow cot the entire time. She never learned the names of her fellow shipmates, barely even looked at them.

She had made herself be strong for John, back at the spaceport. And somehow, at the time, she truly believed that he would have the worse time with their parting. Humans were ruled by their emotions much more than Minbari, and six months on Earth had only confirmed that verdict. But now she could scarcely eat, could not find the energy to rouse herself, even if just to walk from one end of the corridor to the other. Delenn retreated into her memories, and she went over each until they were as smooth as river pebbles.

The first day at school, when John ate lunch with her, and took her to the arcade. Pressed against his body in the Starfury, his arms around her.

He took her home after their shared meal. They kissed, and a world that she had not known to be wrong suddenly righted itself.

Waking up in his bed, his body warm and utterly safe. For the first time, she wondered what it would be like to take him as a mate.

Kisses in his car, his hands growing bolder and bolder. One day it had started raining as they kissed in the back, and the rest of the world seemed to melt away. They were the only two people in existence, safe and secure in this perfect little bubble. John traced the edges of her crest, his face so close to hers that she could feel the sweep of his eyelashes against her cheek when he blinked. Let's never leave. Let's stay here forever.

The shan'fal. His fingertips marking her skin in reverential paths, sweeps and arcs. The warmth of his mouth, the bliss of his hands, the home he made with the curve of his body over hers. I love you, she whispered. No greater truth had ever been spoken. I love you, I love you, I love you.

The last night. They joined their bodies wholly and completely. The feel of him moving inside her, his hands gripping her hips tightly, the tear that rolled down his cheek. There had been no pleasure in it - the act itself had actually been quite painful, save perhaps at the very end - but Delenn knew she would never experience anything more profound and magnificent in all her life.

And the days went by on the ship, one after another, meaningless ticks of the timepiece. Each day took her farther from Earth, farther from John. Each day was an excommunication. Each day her heart grew harder, enveloped in stone. She would become the crystal woman. Light would strike her flesh and fracture.

The ship finally docked at Yedor. Delenn walked down the gangway, her single bag as heavy as lead at the end of her arm. She had not stood for weeks; her head swam, and her vision blurred. She blinked, and was able to see that the spaceport was crowded, that there was perhaps no room left for anyone else to enter. She saw the faces she had ignored while on the ship. Hundreds of faces, thousands. Her people. They looked up at those walking off the ship, smiling and crying.

Delenn dropped her bag. There was no air to be found, and her legs seemed weak as flower stems. Arms wrapped around her, strong arms. For a moment she was sure that John was here, but then she heard a voice, saying her name, over and over.

"Father?" she said, and the arms squeezed her tight. Delenn pressed her face into her father's chest and wept.

xxx

Fully twenty-five members of her clan returned with them to the house. Her father's father, her mother's sister and her cousins, and then those more distant relations, some of whom she had not seen since she was a child. Even Telenn and Anyan had come, their journey taking them nearly halfway around the planet.

"We have been so worried about you, Delenn," her cousin Delenn'na told her, an arm around her waist. "Each day it seemed we heard of some new horrible injustice. It is good to have you home."

Delenn clenched her teeth together. She would not cry.

"Are you hungry?" clan patriarch Anyan grunted out at her. "You look a wraith, child. Earth food is no better than air, this everyone knows." Delenn did not think they would understand if she told them that simply hearing their voices, being surrounded in her own language, was better than any meal could ever be.

"I shall prepare porridge and tea," Telenn announced. Delenn was amazed she had made the trip to Yedor. Her skin was so thin it was nearly translucent. She could see the outline of the old woman's bones, and a distinct gap had formed between the bone crest and her head at the temples, a sure sign the end was nigh. Delenn's father and Anyan helped Telenn up from her chair, and the old woman batted their hands away.

"Something more substantial that porridge, surely," Anyan gruffed.

"And pop her stomach open?" Nervous eyes flitted Delenn's way, but she only smiled. Delenn'na pulled her close, drawing her head down to rest on her shoulder.

The porridge was warm and fragrant, and Delenn could not remember anything ever tasting as good, but she could only eat a few bites before she was uncomfortably full. As she sipped at her tea, her clan chatting amiably all around her about this and that - her third cousin Finnier had just changed castes against the wishes of his father, it was a terrible scandal - Delenn became aware that her own father had retreated into the shadows of the garden.

She found him sitting on a bench with his back to the house, looking out over the city below. "Father?" He did not turn or look at her, but he lifted his arm, inviting her to sit beside him. It was a cool night, and Delenn huddled against him, the weight of his arm on her shoulders a solid anchor, keeping her safe, firmly tethered to the ground.

"You do not know how I worried about you, Delenn," he said, and his voice sounded older than his years. "Ever since that fool..." He trailed off, but Delenn knew he was referring to the Minbari who had assassinated President Harrison. "I waited every day to hear that you had been attacked. That you had been hurt. That you..."

"No, Father," she murmured. How could she explain to him how safe she had felt, up until the last, just being with John?

"You should not have gone," he finally said. Were they now going to replay this argument?

"No one could have known all that would happen," she tried to reason with him. "It was an opportunity I could not turn down. I learned so much!"

"About animals. About savages." The bile in his voice was thick, and Delenn drew away from him.

"They were not all like that, not at all. I made many friends-"

"Friends." Her father was never sarcastic, never so dismissive of her. A dull ache settled in around her ears. "They are dangerous," he went on. "They have taken every offer of peace we have extended them and thrown it back in our faces."

"You talk of a species while I speak of individuals. To paint all Humans as the same is the same mistake their government has made of us. Are you no better than that?"

Father turned and looked at her, sharpness glittering in his eyes, but it faded even as she watched. He sighed. "You are right, Daughter. You cannot understand the fear that has gripped me, not until you have a child of your own."

"You do not have to fear anymore. I am home."

"Yes. You are home."

xxx

Her room was just as she had left it. This bed was far narrower than the monstrosity Livia and Judith had purchased for her, properly proportioned for a single body. Delenn opened the window a crack and lay down, looking around at her possessions. The crystals from the Five Pilgrimages, arranged in a neat row; her ceremonial white robe, hanging in the closet, just the hem peeking out at the bottom; an etching hung on the wall depicting the birth of the Universe; a stack of rocks from her mother's temple, a slip of paper pinned between the third and fourth. The path of righteousness is narrow and difficult, but it will lead you true.

Delenn opened her bag and drew out the little blue bear John had given her. She set it on the shelf below the crystals, where she could see it from her bed, and where its shiny black eyes could see her. She reached inside her robe and unpinned his brooch and looked at it in the moonlight, though she knew each and every detail by heart. Now that she was safely home, she repinned the brooch to the outside of her robe, over her heart. She would wear it proudly, and no one would tell her otherwise.

Though she was exhausted, she could not sleep.

xxx

The world returned very quickly to the one she had lived in before she had left for Earth. Father took her to temple the next day, and they prayed together before the hearth flame, a small disc of scented wax slowly melting to cover the top of her head. There had been no hearth flame in the little Minbari temple she had visited only a few times while on Earth, and it had been far too long since she had rubbed wax into her scalp and crest, shining her head so that she was a beacon of faith.

She went to the markets, and prepared meals for Father, and cleaned house. She would not return to school. Perhaps at the next changing of the season she would decide where her path would now lead her, but for now she was content to do this and nothing else. The fire that had once burned inside her now seemed snuffed out. By the time she was of age to become a diplomat, she doubted there would be any diplomatic relations with Earth to speak of. The idea of treating with Centauri or Narn was repellent. No, she would remain here on Minbar.

Perhaps she would enter service in a temple, like Mother. Perhaps she would meet a male who would take her as a mate, even though she had been sullied by a Human. She would bear a child, two if she was lucky. She would raise them. It would be a happy enough life, she supposed. As happy as she could now expect.

One day, perhaps half a moon cycle since her return, Delenn journeyed outside Yedor to the outskirts, riding in the back of a wagon heading out to the plains, to the spice farms. She thanked the farmer for the ride and hopped off at Mayan's father's orchard. She hoped to see Mayan there. Her childhood friend had written her a few letters, but after a month or so on Earth the correspondence dried up. It was mostly Delenn's fault; she had become so enraptured of John Sheridan that it seemed little else had been in her head at the time. She had not replied to Mayan's last two letters, and had received no more.

But she was home now, and hopeful to renew their friendship. The orchard trees stood unadorned, it being too early for even buds to show their little faces. The next moon cycle would find them covered with delicate green flowers, and the one after that in small green berries. Half would be harvested, and dried, and either ground into powder or submerged in brine. Half would be allowed to ripen, growing into soft white fruit that would just fill her palm. Delenn walked over to the lee of one of the trees, sheltered from the brisk wind, and pressed her nose to the bark. It smelled of the tea the dried and ground berries would make, the tea that children drank when they were ill, and adults drank as a restorative. As always, the scent reminded Delenn of her mother. When last she had visited her, one of the Sisters had brewed a big pot of this tea, and Delenn and Mother had sipped it as they sat together in the vegetable garden.

"Who's there?" someone called. Mayan. Delenn released the tree and stepped out into view. She watched the emotions travel over Mayan's face in quick succession. Surprise, pleasure, and then, apprehension. It was as though shutters were drawn over her eyes, blocking out the light. "Delenn. I did not expect to see you."

"I should have come sooner." Delenn walked to her, knowing that her hopes of a reunion full of joy and laughter were not to be. It was perhaps understandable. She was changed now, in ways few Minbari could understand. Indeed, Mayan noticed the brooch pinned to Delenn's robe and narrowed her eyes.

"Come in from the cold," Mayan said, and she gestured in the polite, impersonal way. Delenn was a guest, and must be treated with kindness. But was she still a friend?

Mayan's house was so unlike Delenn's own - the walls were thinner, graceful arches of brick and crystal composite, a marked contrast to the thick stone structures that hugged the mountains. And since there was more space down here in the valley, the rooms were far larger, some so large that they were defined more by the spaces between things than the things themselves. Mayan led her into the receiving room, and left her there while she prepared tea. Delenn realized she was absolutely sick of tea; she had forgotten just how often her people drank it. She found herself obscurely craving a soda, even though she had often told John she did not like it.

"Do you have any milk?" she called out, and immediately regretted the question. Of course Mayan would not have milk; her youngest brother was fully grown, and would not have had need of milk in many cycles. Mayan poked her head out of the kitchen, face a study in confusion.

"No. I can send for some if you like?" Delenn had been unspeakably rude, requesting something that she knew would not be in the home, putting her host at risk of offending her.

"No, of course not. I apologize. I had grown accustomed to taking milk in my tea on Earth."

"How strange," Mayan said faintly, returning to the fire. It was strange. Delenn remembered the first time she had seen Livia pour milk into tea, and how she had been vaguely nauseated at the thought. But that had been in the early days.

She had changed so much.

Mayan brought them both tea and sat down opposite Delenn. A sun cycle ago they would have sat side by side, hips touching, sharing laughter between them as free as air. "You are well?" Mayan asked. Suddenly a smile came to Delenn's face, and she sipped at the too-hot tea to hide it. Mayan reminded her of a young child playing a game, pretending to be an adult. They had played games like that many a time, preparing tea for Mayan's parents and serving it to them with great solemnity, playing the hosts to the smiling, indulgent adults.

"I am well, thank you. I am still trying to find my place."

"It has not been the same here without you." Mayan put her cup down, and the put-on reserve fled on swift wings, leaving in its wake a young girl, upset, emotional. "I have missed you so much!"

"Mayan." Delenn put her cup down as well and joined her friend, and they put their arms around each other. Mayan breathed in a way that told Delenn she was struggling not to cry.

"It is as though you abandoned us," Mayan tried to explain.

Before Delenn could answer, a door opened not far away, and footsteps entered loudly. Mayan looked up at Delenn with real alarm on her face, then scrambled to her feet, backing several steps away. Mayan's father walked into the receiving room. He had been preparing to speak to his daughter, but when he saw Delenn, he grew very still. He studied her for a long time, even walking around her to look at her from various angles. Delenn bowed her head and withstood the scrutiny as patiently as she could. It was his right to examine her, and she could not protest.

"Mayan," he finally said, not taking his eyes from Delenn. "Go to your room."

"But Father, it is only Delenn! She-"

"I will speak with you later." His tone brooked no argument, and Mayan left, casting one penitent look over her shoulder as she went. Delenn was left alone with the older man, a man who had once hoisted her up on his shoulders and ran through the orchard with her, between the rows of trees, so fast that she was sure she was flying. Now he glowered down at her, his face a stern mask.

"Delenn of Mir." It sounded like an accusation. He had not asked her a direct question, so Delenn kept her eyes downcast and her mouth shut. "You are an Earther now."

"I am not," she whispered, her chest thrumming, her heart galloping along. He just made a sound, a cough in the back of his throat, the sound you made when you spoke to a trained animal.

"I say you are. You have eaten Earth food. Drank Earth water. Breathed Earth air. The molecules in your body are no longer those of Minbar. I say you are an Earther now, and I will not have you in my home."

Delenn knew what was expected of her. She was to rise, her eyes firmly on the floor; she was to cross her hands over her chest and bow lowly; she was to acknowledge his words, and to proclaim their rightness; she was to back out of the room and of the house, never turning her back to him, never raising her eyes.

Delenn stood and looked right at him. She could feel how her face was twisted up in an angry scowl but she made no effort to correct it.

"And I say you are a fool!" she exclaimed, practically in a shout. The look of utter astonishment on his face was worth whatever would come next.

"I will speak to your father. You will be punished for your insolence."

"If I am an Earther now then I am not bound by your dictates, by your rules. Earthers do not allow themselves to be so insulted. They stand up for themselves! They stand proudly, and look everyone right in the eye. You think to diminish me by calling me Earther, but you only diminish yourself. I wear the epithet with pride. I would rather be an Earther than call myself a Minbari such as you."

Mayan's father said nothing. He walked to the wall and pulled aside a stiff tapestry to reveal a comm screen. She knew he would be calling someone, likely her father, but perhaps even the adjudicator from the temple. Delenn did not wait to listen.

The road back to Yedor was long, and climbed steadily uphill. Delenn walked at first with great speed, her anger a strong fuel. But soon she began to tire, and before too long she was moving scarcely faster than a baby gokk. She took a seat on a flat rock at the side of the road, and it was there that her father found her. He had rented an automobile, and he opened the door and gestured for her to join him.

He programmed the automobile to reverse course and return to the city, and then he simply looked at Delenn. He did not need to say anything. She did not care what a horrible man like Mayan's father thought of her, but she risked bringing disrespect onto her father's name, and that thought filled her with guilt.

"I'm sorry," she whispered. He said nothing. It was only when they entered the city that he covered her hand with his own.

"They will all forget, soon enough." She did not want them to forget. She wanted them to accept her as she was. The world she had returned to was proving to be no different from the one she had left. "In the meantime," her father continued, "do not trouble yourself with those who would think differently of you. They only reveal their own folly and weakness, and not yours."

"Yes, Father."

Back they went into their house, and Delenn resolved to climb into bed right that minute, even though it was still some time before nightfall. Instead, her father handed her a data crystal. "This came for you, from Centauri Prime."

"I don't know anyone from Centauri Prime," Delenn said, puzzled. She went to her room and placed the crystal into an adapter, sending the signal to her lectern. She lay down on her stomach on her bed and loaded the message, whatever it was.

It was John! The sight of his face, of his smile, of even his messy bedroom behind him, was enough to make her start crying. "Delenn," he said, and he laughed even as she did. "I hope you get this. I'm sending it to a friend of my dad's who's supposed to send it on to you. I just wanted to tell you how much I missed you. God, I miss you! A hundred times a day something will happen and I'll think, 'I need to tell Delenn that.' And then I remember you're not here anymore."

He paused for a moment. There was an ache in her chest, so deep she was sure she had somehow received a mortal wound. She clutched the lectern so tightly she feared she would break it. John leaned out of frame to retrieve something, and came back with a sheet of paper.

"So. I wrote down everything that's happened, and now I'm going to tell them to you. One - this morning I ate eight slices of bacon for breakfast and made half a loaf of bread into French toast, and Mom threatened to kill me. Two - Lizzie didn't tie her shoes and tripped on the front steps and skinned her chin. She looks like a monster now. Three..."

John went on and on, reminding her of all the friends she had left behind. Some of the stories were so inconsequential as to not bear repeating, as when he told her of his decision to wear a pink shirt instead of a white shirt that morning. Other stories were funny, and she giggled into her pillow. A few brought tears to her eyes. "Twenty-eight - Yvonne's dad got a job in Detroit, and she's moving at the end of the school year. She's still got a year of high school left, but she says she might just get her equivalency and go straight to college this fall. She's gonna record you a message before she goes, though, she promises. Yesterday she told me that she's going to try to go off-world this summer, and maybe you two can meet up somewhere. I told her I'm stealing that idea. Let's meet on Scorpia!" One of the Centauri colony worlds. It was closer to Earth than Minbar, and a popular tourist destination for many races. Suddenly Delenn felt hope bloom in her heart. They would meet on Scorpia.

"I love you," John said, the message nearing its end. "I will never stop loving you. Believe that, and never doubt it. Bye, honey. See you soon."

Delenn restarted the message and watched it straight through again. Then she dug through the bottom of her closet and found an old data crystal, likely from school. She erased whatever was on it without looking at it, and set up her lectern to record. For some reason, she didn't want her father to hear her, even though she did not think he knew a single English word. Still, she took her lectern with her to the garden, and sat down facing the house, so that John could see the city behind her.

"John, my dear John. My world has been incomplete without you. I will take a job in the city. I will do whatever I must. We will meet at Scorpia when your school year is out. Oh, John, I miss you so much.

xxx

The messages they sent back and forth soon defined her existence. Everything else seemed inconsequential, or worse, a waste of time. Delenn was fully aware that what she was doing was unhealthy, that she needed to move on, that she needed to accept that she and John would never truly be able to build a life together, but she could not. Not yet. And it seemed that he could not, either, if the frequency of his messages was any indication.

Slowly, those outside her clan grew accustomed to her presence back home. The people who had largely ignored her the first few weeks began to speak to her again, and if they were perhaps not as warm as they had been a year ago, at least they were not pretending she did not exist. Father was right - they forgot that she had somehow been tainted, and they remembered her as the girl she had once been. All but Mayan's father, who still refused to let Mayan see Delenn. Mayan was old enough that she should have been able to make that decision on her own, but she decided to abide by her father's wishes. There was nothing Delenn could say to her old friend. They saw each other at temple, but that was all.

It was at temple that Delenn learned of the small Human community north of the city, tucked high in a little valley between two peaks. One day, when her father was very busy with a translation and had assured her he would simply stay at the temple and work, and that she did not need to prepare his dinner, Delenn left the city and journeyed north. She took with her the supplies that her father's friend Walenn took up to the Humans every half-moon cycle. "They used to trade well enough to support themselves, but since the deportation, there are many in town who do not wish to deal with the Humans at all."

"That is unkind," Delenn said.

"It is, it is," Walenn agreed. "It is not our way. Or, at least, it should not be our way. But Minbar is changing, and I do not like it one bit. That a Minbari would refuse aid to another, no matter his race! Appalling. That is why I take them what they need."

"I am surprised they remained on Minbar."

"Oh, if you met them, you would not be."

So Delenn offered to make the journey in Walenn's stead. She carried with her a crate of fruit and a crate of grain, two large bags of dried fish, and five huge smoked sausages. It did not seem like enough food to feed eight people for three weeks, especially considering the prodigious appetites of Humans, but Walenn assured her that they did grow some of their own food, as well. Delenn did not see how. She knew that it was possible to coax many things to grow this high up the mountains, but this was a particularly forbidding landscape, even for Minbar. The road she took was scarcely more than an animal trail, and it switched back and forth so many times she nearly became ill; since she could not rely on the auto's programming to handle the terrain, she had to drive the machine herself. By the time she reached the Human outpost, the muscles in her neck and shoulders were hard as rocks from turning the controls this way and that.

At first she saw nothing but boulders, but as she entered the flat depression, she realized that they had carved out their homes from the boulders. Only one who knew to look for them would ever find them, she thought. "Hello?" she called out. "I am here on behalf of Walenn. I have brought you some supplies."

There was a long beat of silence, and Delenn feared they would not come out at all. They would simply wait until she left, not trusting her. But then one Human emerged from his boulder home, then another, and then finally all eight.

They were men and women who originally came from a part of Earth Delenn knew to be called Tibet. John had shown her pictures, one day when they had spoken of his interest in Buddhism. Both the men and the women had shaved their heads bald, and wore beautiful orange and green robes. They looked more like Minbari than any other Humans she had ever seen, and when they politely bowed to her - not in an imitation of her people's ways, but in their own fashion - she could not help but clap her hands together and laugh.

"You belong here!" she said in English, but they shook their heads at her, not understanding.

"Welcome to our home," the eldest said in nearly unaccented Adronato. With warm smiles, they led her inside one of the boulders.

The plain rock exteriors hid extraordinary beauty. The inside of the boulder had been carved out to form a work of art as much as a home. There were niches everywhere, filled with exquisite statues, a few of which she recognized from her Earth art textbook. Buddhas, Bodhisattvas. The boulder was crowded with everyone inside - each seemed to be a one-room accommodation for two of the Tibetans - but Delenn enjoyed the close proximity. One of the younger women brewed tea, and poured it out into tiny porcelain cups. It was strong black tea, from Earth, and the taste of it brought tears to Delenn's eyes.

"I was on Earth," she told them. "Until they sent us all home."

"We have been afraid the Grey Council will do the same to us."

"I hope they do not. This is your home now, isn't it?" They nodded at her, and the eldest let out a resigned sigh.

"If it were not for your friend Walenn, I do not know if we could continue here. How long will this arrangement last, though? There is no security in our position."

"We will change their minds," Delenn told them. She felt the fire inside her once again. Hadn't John fought for her, struggled so hard to influence those Humans who disliked her simply because of who she was? Hadn't he done all he could for her? She needed to do the same, here, for these Humans.

Delenn knew that the idea could not originate with her, or it would be discounted before it even began. Neither could it come from her father. By this time she had found others who were more sympathetic to Humans, even after everything that had happened, some who still believed a peaceful solution to the enmity between their races was possible. Delenn whispered in their ears. We could set an example for Earth. We can show them that cohabitation is possible, even here on Minbar.

And in the meantime, in the weeks before the new trade network to the Humans living in the boulders was established, Delenn recorded messages. She assisted a primary school near her father's temple and was paid a meager wage, which she assiduously saved. She researched Scorpia there was a hotel which was not one single building; instead, each room was a building of its own, a small rustic structure set by itself, in a forest so dense that the buildings could not be found without maps. She and John would rent one of those buildings, and they would make love every second of every day they were together.

She did not realize it, but for those few weeks, she was happy.

xxx

Delenn was on her hands and knees in the corridor at the primary school, scrubbing the floor. It was an unseasonably warm day, and her robes were chafing under her arms a bit. She steadfastly ignored the unpleasant sensation, along with the ache in her shoulders and lower back. Footsteps sounded on the tiles behind her, but she ignored that sound, as well no doubt it was one of the instructors, or perhaps a parent.

They did not tell me that you were Worker Caste. The voice was deep and gravely, yet filled with warmth. Delenn looked ahead of her at first, thinking that whoever was speaking must be addressing someone else. Seeing that she was alone in the corridor, she sat back on her heels and turned.

A man stood a few paces behind. Very tall, he was around Father's age, though he bore an iron-gray beard around his mouth and chin that gave him a far more austere appearance. There were only a few clans that produced Minbari able to grow facial hair; Delenn's own was among them, which meant it was a distinct possibility this man was a relation, no matter how distant. His robes were richly made and impeccably tailored. This was a rich man.

Delenn felt horribly poor and abased in comparison, and she scrambled up from the floor, dropping her brush in the bucket of water beside her. She bowed her head obsequiously and clasped her hands tightly in front of her. Since he had not asked her a question, she did not speak.

Does this building not have a mechanized floor washer? I should not have thought any building in Yedor was without.

It does, she answered in a near-whisper.

Then why do you scrub the tiles by hand?

For a moment, Delenn considered lying to him, for she did not think she could tell this man the truth. But despite the experience in deception she had picked up from her time on Earth, she somehow knew that he would see right through her. I strayed from the faith in the past cycle. My attendance at temple was lax. I disregarded many of our most sacred customs. So I have set myself penance." Delenn never lifted her eyes from the tile at which she stared, a tile with a chipped corner in front of her feet. She could feel the man's gaze burning into her. Now he would ask her which customs she had ignored, he would ask her about her many sins, he would force her to strip away every last bit of artifice until she was laid bare before him, a sad example of the disgraceful state of their people.

Instead, the man only chuckled. "Would that more Minbari were as pious as you, Delenn of Mir." In surprise, Delenn raised her eyes. The man's smile was nearly as broad as some of John's more enthusiastic grins, and he gestured toward one of the open classrooms. "Let us speak somewhere a little more comfortable."

Though she did not know who this man was or what he wanted, Delenn felt little trepidation as she followed him and took a seat in a nearby room. There was a dignity that surrounded him almost as a tangible aura, and she found it difficult to divert her eyes back to the floor. "Your clan's patriarch Anyan is my mother's third cousin once removed, so we are cousins ourselves, in a way. My name is Dukhat."

"The honor of our meeting is mine," she replied formally, bringing her hands together and bowing, which was awkward, since she was seated.

"You need not stare at the floor, Delenn. I cannot have an aide who does not look up."

And now she did look up, utterly astonished. "What?"

"We have known of you for some time. Your presence in the Earth media was seen by some as an embarrassment, but I found that you represented our people quite well. And your recent work here in Yedor, in securing a stable situation for the Earthers on the mountain, has been commendable."

"I did nothing, august one. The work was that of Walenn, and Talleth, and-"

"You are modest, Delenn, but you ought not lie." She dropped her eyes to her lap, feeling the hot shiver of shame work its way up her spine. "Will you become my aide?" he asked, but she could not answer. Her mouth seemed locked shut. "Ah, you are thinking. Considering. You make no decisions hastily. But is this your true nature, or are you displaying those traits you think I wish to see?"

"You have already offered me the position, so what need have I to play at deception?" she retorted before she thought it through. Again, though, Dukhat only chuckled, a low sound that reminded her of John. "You have not even told me what you do, august one," she went on. "What fool accepts a position in complete ignorance of its duties?"

"And what would you imagine I do, forthright one?"

"You are richly dressed, so you are no laborer. Yet your crest is smooth, so you are no warrior. Religious caste. I do not recognize you from any of Yedor's temples, so you do not reside or work here. You spoke of 'we,' a group of people to which you belong, who viewed Earth media to such an extent that you knew who I was. You are Grey Council, Dukhat, are you not?" Delenn found it difficult to draw a breath when she finished. Her fingers wished to tremble, so she wove them together in her lap.

"A problem solved logically needs no answer, for the answer is already apparent. I pose the question again: will you join me on the Valen'tha?"

Surely this was a dream. Delenn could not think, could not really imagine that any of this was real. But Dukhat was real, of that she was positive. He was watching her with quiet patience, and the lively good humor in his eyes made her want to accept, if only to see his pleasure at her response.

Instead she said, "I must speak to my father."

Dukhat nodded. "That is wise. Speak to any others of your clan whose council you welcome. I do not offer you a passing fancy, or a moment's distraction. If you come with me, you will be making a commitment that is true and binding." She swallowed hard.

xxx

"But you only just came home!" Father said, and his voice was shrill and sharp. Delenn could not help but wince.

"I have been home for two months, Father. This is an opportunity I cannot pass up lightly."

"And if we go to war with Earth? You will be right in the thick of it, Delenn! You see how they are trying to provoke us, accusing us of building a military installation on their continent on Orion 7."

"Father."

"They will not give up. Not until they've finally had their way."

"Father, why would Earth want war? We are far more advanced. Our weapons more powerful. They will know they have no hope of victory."

"Alone, no. But if they recruit the Centauri to their cause? The Gaim? The Markab?"

Delenn sighed and left the room, walking out into the garden. She heard him follow, as she knew he would. Now that night had fallen, the air had cooled off dramatically, and it felt good on her face, perfectly crisp. She would have liked to have asked him how he, an archivist, a translator of ancient scrolls, knew so much about military strategy, but such a question would only wound his feelings.

She sat on the bench, turning to face him. He was examining the vines growing around the door, the corners of his mouth turned down in a frown. Delenn realized that he looked older than she remembered, the lines on his face deeper. "The Council would not take the Valen'tha into danger. They would not risk it. I should think there would be no safer place for me to be should war overtake us."

He said nothing. But his face when he looked at her was resigned, and she knew that he had no other protest to issue.

Father joined her on the bench, and they sat for a long time, long enough for the smaller moon to overtake the other in their eternal race through the night sky. Delenn could not rightly leave until he dismissed her, and he did not seem likely to do so anytime soon. She steeled her mind for a long night spent awake, in quiet meditation, sitting on the uncomfortable and cold stone bench.

And then he spoke. "Is this the path you mean to take, then?" She said nothing, unsure exactly what he was asking. "This is no single cycle diversion, Delenn. This is the rest of your life."

His words were so similar to Dukhat's that she might have thought the two of them to have conspired.

"I have not made up my mind yet, Father. Not entirely. But would it not seem that this is the path on which the Universe has placed me?"

He did not answer her. After a moment, he stood, and without saying another word, returned inside the house. It was a blow worse than any rebuke spat out in anger. Delenn continued to sit in stunned silence.

xxx

She spoke to all of her clan who lived in Yedor, and called Anyan as well. "What an honor," he said, and there was something in his eyes as he gazed at Delenn, even through the viewscreen, that made her duck her head, feeling exposed. "Do you know what it means to be asked to perform as an aide to Satai? Let alone to Dukhat?" She had not known who Dukhat was prior to their meeting, and she could not help but feel a bit surprised that Anyan was so knowledgeable. But he was clan patriarch, after all, so it stood to reason he would be aware of who served on the Council.

"Is Dukhat not Satai?" she asked, a bit confused.

"He is, yes. He is chief among them, the leader of the Grey Council. And he has chosen you as his aide."

After Delenn ended the call with Anyan, she wandered around her house, from room to room. Even though Father was away, she found the house too claustrophobic, so she headed out into the city. Up and down the streets she walked, her mind churning relentlessly. Why would Dukhat have chosen her? She was young, so young she had not even formally entered a caste, so young she had not performed her cycle of service at temple, so young that she could not even swear the oath as an acolyte. She had done nothing to distinguish herself. Surely there had been many young Minbari who had traveled to Earth the same as she had, who had found themselves the victims of persecution and had yet persevered, who had returned to Minbar and attempted to do something of consequence. Delenn could not believe she was anything that special.

What she truly wished to do was ask John his opinion. Of course, it would take a week for her message to reach him, then a week for his answer to return. She did not think Dukhat would wait two weeks. Besides that, though, she wasn't sure she could even ask John. The question itself spelled her intentions to end their relationship. She knew what Dukhat was truly asking her. One who functioned as aide to Satai was groomed to one day become Satai themselves. Service in the Grey Council was generally for life, but at the minimum one could expect to commit at least twenty cycles to that path.

If she accepted, she would likely not see John again until he was forty or fifty Earth years old, middle-aged for his people. He would almost without a doubt have taken a wife by that time. Had children. Built a life that did not include her in any way. Just the thought of it was enough to drive a keen-edged knife between her ribs. She had to take a seat outside of the public works building, but was still unable to catch her breath. No matter what she did, she could not get the image out of her head - John, handsome in a bright, shining EarthForce uniform, walking into the door of his own home. Greeted by two or three young children, running up to hug his knees. His wife, embracing him, kissing him. His wife. Delenn tried to think of something else, anything else, but the images flooded into her mind without respite. Another woman, a tall, Human woman, putting her arms around John. Kissing him. Sliding her hands over his body.

And then Delenn saw clearly, as though it were happening right before her eyes, her John wrapped in an embrace with Lindsay, flashing-eyed, red-haired Lindsay. Delenn remembered each time she had seen John and Lindsay together eating in the cafeteria, walking side by side through the halls, talking in class. Lindsay greatly esteemed him, that much was perfectly obvious to anyone who chanced to see her face as she gazed at John. She desired him, too. John liked her, at the very least; they had been friends before Delenn came to Earth, and continued their friendship as far as she knew. How long could he truly remain alone and celibate, with only his memory of Delenn as a companion? Not long. And she could not truly wish for him to be alone, not if she loved him.

But still, the very thought of it threatened to rip her in two. Delenn leaned over, hands gripping the edge of the bench tightly, doing her best to catch her breath. Somehow through the extremity of her angst, Delenn heard footsteps approach. She opened her eyes in time to see a shadow stop in front of her.

In the second before the shadow spoke, Delenn remembered the day she had waited in the temple, when she had been a child. It was the first time she had seen her mother since she had become a Sister, and the weekend they spent together was one of Delenn's most cherished memories. Back then, she and her father still lived far from the nearest city, farther even than Mayan lived now. To be among so many people! Delenn remembered staring at the different faces, wondering how there could possibly be so many. Her mother should have been a stranger to her she only had one clear memory of her from before, singing a song together before bed but it was as though she had never left.

Halfway through the day, Delenn concocted a scheme. She would be the most brilliant, most loving, most perfect daughter imaginable. Mother would fall in love with her and be unable to return to her temple. The other Sisters would understand, and they would release her from her vows. And then Mother would return to the little house by the river, and the three of them would be together and happy forever and ever. To that end, she made a point of asking interesting, pertinent questions, of being unfailingly polite to all who crossed their path, of pointing out new and exciting things for the three of them to explore. As they passed an old temple, Delenn spotted an aged inscription still visible in the crumbling rock. She hurried over to try and read it herself, but the runes were of the old tongue, the single Minbari language spoken before the castes separated. Delenn could not work out the meaning. She squinted and tried to guess, but finally resigned herself to failure. She would simply have to ask Father.

But when she turned around, he was gone. He and Mother both. Delenn ran up and down the street, and into the shops and businesses there, and all through the park atop the hill, but she could not find them anywhere. Fear hammered at her ribs from the inside, and she could scarcely keep the tears at bay. Panicked, she returned to the temple, deciding to wait. Surely they would realize that she was missing, and they would retrace their steps. They would find her. Everything would be fine.

Inside, the temple seemed centuries old. Fine lace cobwebs hung everywhere, and the dust upon the flagstones seemed a carpet. Delenn's fear evaporated, and she stared all around, thinking she had stumbled into something not altogether real. Did no one use this temple anymore? How could it stand here in the middle of the city utterly forsaken? Delenn took a seat, though she was loathe to do so, afraid that touching anything would make it all crumble away to dust. There was a quiet inside the space so deep and profound it seemed to sink straight through to her heart, as though by entering she had captured a piece of that peace for her very own.

Time passed. Minutes, hours, she had no idea. Time didn't seem to matter here. When the priest emerged from the back, his hands clasped in front of him, a warm smile on his face, Delenn wasn't surprised at all. In fact, she was almost sure she knew him, through from where she wasn't sure. He told her that all would be well, but she knew that already. By the time her parents had rejoined her, Delenn had known that Mother would not be returning home. It was a degree of certainty she had experienced only once since: the first time she had told John that she loved him.

Delenn stared at the shadow cast in front of her, and she was sure that when she raised her eyes, the priest from the ancient temple would be standing before her, that same warm smile on his face. But it was only a wrinkled woman, hunched over a cane. Are you all right, child? the elderly woman asked, and she extended a trembling hand, patting Delenn gently on the cheek.

Suddenly Delenn understood everything. She nodded, unable to speak. The elderly woman did not seem convinced, but she toddled off nonetheless. Delenn sat a moment longer, then stood and began to walk home. She had wandered to a part of the city to which she had never before been, but she made her way back without hesitation. Once there, she went to the viewscreen and placed a call.

Satai Dukhat. I accept your offer. 


End file.
